


Fire And Ice

by MickieJae



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Coping, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Modern AU, Reuniting, Slow Build, adult au, and it's ruining Jean, crying for days, enemies to sex friemies to lovers, four years after highschool, gender fluid eren, sad boys, some porn, someone is dead, there's lots of fucking to forget in this, which might lead to something more...???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 31,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5014243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickieJae/pseuds/MickieJae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren left four years ago for college in Germany and Jean never quite understood why he was angry about it. Why wouldn't he *want* his greatest rival to leave?<br/>Eren returns four years later with something to hide and to find Jean worse than he was when he left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Four Years later

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed it in the tags, there are mentions of suicide in here. I don't wanna trigger anyone, so this is your warning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For as long as they'd gone to school together, people had understood that they were a paradox, a relationship of opposites. Avoiding each other like the plague and yet always seeming to end up in the same room together."

 

Eren was Fire.

Jean was Ice.

For as long as they'd gone to school together, people had understood that they were a paradox, a relationship of opposites. Avoiding each other like the plague and yet always seeming to end up in the same room together. Taking different classes, but always passing each other in the hall. One dated a goth, while the other dated a cheerleader, but somehow always managed to end up on double dates anyways. They  _hated_  each other for it.

Four years after high school, it was still like that. For the most part.

In those fours years, something had happened to Jean. If his attitude was cold before, his heart was frozen now. He rarely spoke to anyone he didn't have to. He wasn't very good at feeling anymore either. The numb, empty feeling in his stomach was a usual thing now. He was used to it now, embraced it even. There were only two people in the world who had ever made him feel anything and now one of them was dead.

 

 

It was at a small used record shop on the East side of town, one actively frequented by old men and girls who wore the same too-big-flannel two weeks in a row. Jean was searching through Four Tops records when he heard a snort from the other side of the boxes, "Wow. Not surprised I met you again here," Jean looked up. Low slung, dark red jeans, white t-shirt that fit almost  _too_  well, necklace of shark teeth, chin with a scar that looked oddly like the one Jean had given Eren Jaeger in sixth grade; And the guy, with a cocky smile and the emerald green eyes and the shaggy brown hair, strangely enough, also looked like Eren Jaeger. "Still a pretentious prick, I see." But this couldn't be Eren Jaeger. Eren Jaeger had left the country after senior year to go some great school he'd gotten in on scholarship.

"You're in the same goddamned shop," Jean muttered back. "Aren't you supposed to be in Germany or something?" Something in Eren's eyes darkened for a moment. But a moment later, the usual mischief was back.

"Couldn't handle me, so I came back," He looked Jean up and down. "You look... less lanky." Jean rolled his eyes.

"And you're still an asshole." Eren tapped his fingers on the tops of records and sighed softly.

"Wanna go get coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee." Eren snorted.

"You only drank coffee in high school."

"Well it turns out that it was helping my panic attacks happen more often, so I stopped two years ago."

"Fine, we'll go somewhere else."

"Will we?"

"Yes! Jesus, come on, I'm trying to catch up with you." Eren crossed his arms. "Come to the fucking smoothie place down the street with me, alright?" Jean stared at him. His greatest rival throughout his entire childhood. The kid who he vowed to ruin in second grade, when he came to the school and dropped his yogurt all over Jean's favorite sweatpants. The bastard who kissed Jean's first girlfriend before he did in sixth grade. Who'd scored higher on their final exams in eighth. Who called him Horse Face and Gigantor in tenth grade until he got the whole school doing it. The asshat who made snide comments about Jean's not so secret crush on his best friend. The kid who bragged day and night, to everyone-- especially Jean-- when he got into that prestigious college, all on his own, even as an orphan. The dick who Jean had suckerpunched when he told him he was going to Germany. The guy who had hugged Jean when he left anyways, right before boarding a plane.

"Fine." Jean muttered. Eren grinned. The same shit-eating, I-Know-I'm-Hot grin he had since he hit puberty.

They left the record store and headed towards Smooth Grove silently.

Eren broke the silence first, "I, uh... heard about what happened to Marco." Jean's heart stuttered, before he sighed.

"Yeah..." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'd like to visit his grave.... would you mind showing me where it is?"

"I'd rather not. I haven't visited that place, not since his funeral."

"I'm really sorry man... I, uh, know how much you liked him." Jean shoved his hands in his pockets. "Did anything ever happen between you too?" 

"No, of course not. Once he figured it out, he was cool about it but... it never went anywhere... I was fine with that. As long as he knew, you know? At least he knew someone loved him." Eren stopped and set his hand on Jean's shoulder. The look in his eyes was one Jean had never seen. He looked like he actually cared...? It was weird. Jean didn't know how he felt about this.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly. They were standing close. Too close. Jean could count the flecks of gold in Eren's eyes, see every eyelash he had. See the faint scar on his lip. From Jean? No, that was too long ago. Why did this guy have so many scars? There were new ones, ones Jean didn't remember. What had he gotten up to, over there in Germany?

"Eren..."

"Do you live around here?"

"What?! Uh, yeah, like a few blocks away--"

"Great. Let's go." Jean didn't say no.

He didn't know what was going on. Truth be told, neither of them did. People used to joke around, say that they had always been secretly in love with each other, but that usually ended in a fight between them. They weren't in love with each other. Not really. But that wasn't stopping them. Not when Jean hadn't touched another person in months, barely even himself. Not when Eren was there and was being a decent person. Not when he was still wallowing in the death of his first love a year later and needed someone-- or something-- to distract. Even if it was just for a night.

He had Eren against the door to his apartment, pressing him there with the length of his body. Eren was only a few inches shorter than him, but he stood up on his tiptoes anyways. He clutched at Jean's shirt, tugging him closer, kissing him harder. They pulled away for nothing, lungs filling up with the others breath until they felt like they were about to burst. Jean was drowning, but he wasn't trying to swim. He needed to drown. He needed that feeling of dying that made him feel alive. Eren was supplying that with vigor, holding Jean exactly where he was, not letting him move on his own.

They back up as one unit, stumbling over each other's feet until Jean's back hit the door to his room, pushing it open. He didn't even bother feeling embarrassed at scattering of clothes and tear stained tissues and used, torn books that scattered his floor that he would usually push under his bed and into the closet before letting someone inside. But he didn't care what Eren thought of the mess on the floor that accurately represented his life.

The bed groaned under their weight. Any sense of romanticism was forgotten as clothes were torn off.  Eren gasped as Jean bit his collar bone and pinned him to the covers, sitting on his hips, "What are we doing?" He breathed.

"Using each other to distract ourselves."

" _Using_?" Eren shrugged.

"Later, we can talk about this later," He pulled on Jean's wrist. "Come on,  _please_. I haven't in so long." Jean obliged.

He had never expected to see Eren again. Whether in passing or on Facebook or whatever. He certainly never expected to see him with his face shoved into one of Jean's own pillows, ass stuck in the air as Jean pushed his fingers in and out of it. Eren moaned loudly, wanton and high. His legs trembled from holding himself up, gripping the sheets underneath him.

"Are you good?" Jean muttered, kissing the curve of Eren's ass lightly

"Fuck,  _yes_ , just... ugh,  _do it already_..." Jean got up on his knees. He was achingly hard and needed the relief. He couldn't remember the last time he came.

Eren whined loudly as Jean pushed inside of him, stretching Eren out, moaning at the tightness that wrapped around him. Jean ran his hands over Eren's hips, kneading them to get Eren to relax, even just a bit. The dimples in his back stood out further as he finally got used to the thickness and length of Jeans cock inside of him. He was panting softly, small moans slipping between his lips. When Jean started to move, Eren begged him to go harder, faster. He needed it to hurt and he need bruises to prove to himself in the morning that it had happened.

"F-fuck,  _yes_! Jean,  _there_ , oh god--!"He braced on arm against the wall, while Jean held onto is hips for dear life and pulled him back as his hips snapped forward, connecting with Eren's skin with loud slaps. He was loosing control of himself, sweat beading on his skin. He bent down, biting and sucking at Eren's neck and shoulders, leaving dark bruises in the shape of his mouth as he grinded deep inside of him. Eren gasped in air, closing his eyes. Fuck, if he could come just from this, he might just  _thank_  Kirstein.

"Damn, Eren," Jean breathed against Eren's ear. "if I would've known you were this good, I might've done this a little earlier."

"As if I-I'd let you-- _ahhh_ ,  _fuc_ \--" His arm bent against the wall at the force of Jean's thrust, voice breaking. Jean took no mercy on him, pounding into him with reckless abandon. Eren didn't think he could handle much more of this. His throat was raw, his knees ached, his skin stung where it touched Jeans. He was burning up. It was curling in his stomach, tightening every muscle he had. Eren reached back, fingernails digging into Jean's thigh, warning him not to stop with the gesture.

"I-I'm gonna cum," Jean stuttered out, voice scratchy.

"Me too..." Eren barely managed to get it out. Jean was holding him up at this point, keeping him up and awake and  _feeling_  and fuck, if only his own body would stop teasing him and  _let him come already_. 

Jean came first. His pace stuttered, as he thrusted in short, deep thrust, through his orgasm, coming inside Eren. Just the feeling of it was enough to push Eren over the edge himself, but the noises Jean made... They'd be stuck in his head forever.

 

They were a mess of bite marks and bruises and cum. Both were exhausted. Neither felt any better about what bothered them.

"Why did you really come back?" Jean breathed softly. Eren, laying on his stomach, opened his eyes to look back at him.

"I got kicked out of the school," He rasped. "for fighting." Jean smiled slightly.

"Well, that's not surprising." His smile fell when he saw the look on Eren's face. Shame. Shame for himself.

"I-- the kid.... He was making fun of this girl..." He sighed. "I couldn't stand it, Jean... She looked like Mikasa. He was being such a dick, he was worse than you." Jean snorted. "I couldn't let him. So I punched him. We fought and then they kicked me out a-and... I don't know how to tell Mikasa or Armin or anyone... Not when they were so proud of me. I'm so scared Jean." No one had been happier for Eren than his pseudo-siblings, the one who'd taken him in when both parents passed. They'd thrown a party, told everyone they saw.

"They love you, don't they?" Jean had always been jealous of their closeness. "So they'll understand."

"They'll be disappointed in me and when... when I worked so hard," Eren closed his eyes, brow furrowing. "I'm such an idiot. I fucked up badly. And there's no way I can fix it this time, Jean. I'm a fucking screw up." 

"We all are, Eren. At least you're able to function by yourself." Jean sat up. "They'll understand. You'll move on. You  _always_  move on. That's what you do. You move through life like you're flowing with a current, letting it pull you anywhere. It'll pull you away from this." Eren stared at him, eyes wide.

"You.... actually make sense now, Kirstein."

"I've been known to do that occasionally." Jean, after hesitating, reached over and laid his hand on Eren's hair, running his fingers through the damp, silky mess of waves. "You'll be okay... you have to be okay."

"Are you okay?" Eren whispered. "Is it Marco?"

"It's always Marco..." Jean muttered, covering his face with his hand. "Even after he dies, I still can't.... I miss him so much. Wh-when he died, I thought... I thought so much about following him, but everyone was so broken up after he did that to himself... Even if it was only my parents who were like that, I couldn't do it. I'm not like him."

"Not only your parents would be sad." 

"Don't flatter me. No one was a fan of me in high school, no one is a fan of me now." wincing, Eren sat up and leaned against Jean, resting his head on his shoulder. "We slept with each other because it was something to do."

"I won't deny that... but I'd be sad if you ever did something to yourself. Who would I have to patronize?" Jean looked down at him, smiling slightly. Eren grinned back. 

"I missed you when you went to Germany. That's why I hit you." Jean kissed the crown of Eren's head. "You were leaving me... I didn't want you to. No one else argued and fought with me like you did."

"Hmmm, are you confessing to me, Kirstein?"

"Not on your life."

"You love me."

"Love is a stretch but..." He left it open. Eren sat back, wincing at the pain in his hips and ass. 

"Will you come with me when I go see Mikasa and Armin?"

"Yes."

"And then we can go visit Marco's grave." Jean started to shake his head. Eren grabbed Jean's cheeks, stopping him. "We're going. You need to." 

"Fine. I'll go."

"Good. Maybe the next time we have sex, it won't be to forget our problems."

"That implies that there's gonna be a next time," Eren grinned that cocky grin.

"There's gonna be a lot of next time, if I have anything to say about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally meant for something else, but it got a little out of hand, so I decided to give it it's own fic. Hope you enjoy!


	2. Face The Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Eren's sadness was, like all his other emotions, extreme and loud and ground shaking. Well, body shaking. His whole body shook with the force of his tears, cheeks splotchy and red. Eren was not a pretty crier."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Looks like this is gonna be longer than I originally thought. I spent a while just thinking it over and decided that I had too much story in my head to just leave it where it was.

Well, go on."

“I can't do it."

“Fuck, come on Eren. Ring the damn doorbell." The outside of the apartment building was starting to crack. It was an older building. “It's freezing out here, Eren, come on!" Erens hand shook as he pressed the buzzer next to Apartment 203, but it wasn't because if the cold.

“Hello? Armin speaking."

“H-hey, Armin. It's Eren."

“Eren!! Ohmigod! Why didn't you tell us you were coming back-- never mind! Come inside and tell us!" The door buzzed softl. Eren opened the door, Jean shut it. They walked up creaky stairs, then down a dim hall with a stained '90s carpet. The door at the end looked like a door to Jean. But Eren saw the first time he stole the key from Mikasa's pocket and ran up stairs with Armin in toe to see their new apartment. He saw the time he and Armin has leaned against it's wood and waited for Mikasa to come home and kill the spider in the kitchen. He saw it wide open, with his friends in the doorway, too excited to keep it shut when he came home from taking his exam to get into college. They'd ran down this hallway and tackled him when he held up a score sheet with a near perfect grade.

“Are you gonna open it?" Jean asked.

“I can't face them."

“They're supposed to love you. You only got kicked out--"

“Only?!" Eren shoved Jean back. “I was so busy studying, I couldn't even help pay the bills! And Mikasa and Armin still helped pay for my books. I was an asshole to them the whole two months leading up to that stupid test and could only blame it on the nerves. I put them through hell for so long for this. Neither of them are going to college now. Armin could've been a doctor by now..." Behind him, the door opened.

“Eren!" He turned around just in time to catch Armin, hugging him fiercely. Armin dug his face into Erens shoulder and sighed softly. “I missed you."

“I missed you too." Eren muttered. Jean was getting uncomfortable with their closeness. It reminded him too much of four years ago. He looked away.

“Come in! Both of you!" Armin pulled Eren with. Jean trailed behind, wondering if he was really has welcomed as Armin was making it seem. It's not like their relationship was anything like his and Eren's, it just didn't exist. They saw each other in passing, a head nod here or there. Jean had only ever spoken to him once or twice. He didn't know what he was doing in his house.

“I didn't expect Jean of all people to be with you," Armin said. “What's this all about? I know you didn't go see your arch enemy before me and Kasa." Something stung About being referred to as an 'Arch enemy.'

“Is Mikasa here?" Eren asked.

“No, just me. She'll be here soon, she was just going out to the store to get stuff for dinner... Guess I'll have to make some more." Armin smiled at them both. “What? Have something _important_ to tell me?" 

"Uh, kinda..." Eren laughed nervously. Armin grinned. 

"I'm gonna go call her and tell her to get more food, alright? Go wait in the living room!" Armin bounced into the kitchen.

Jean flopped down on a ratty old couch that still sunk in too much when Eren sat down on it, "Man, you look like you're about to puke." Eren was too busy looking around the room. It was clean in here. None of his work books or discarded clothes. The musty place no longer held the spicy smell of his deodorant under the strong, earthy smell of Mikasa's perfume and the watery, fresh flowery scent that Armin naturally smelled like. He was erased from his home, with no evidence that he lived here. He knew his old room would look the same at least. He hadn't taken much with him to Germany. Left a lot behind, though.

"I might..." Eren muttered. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Dude, you've been saying that this whole time, but it's gonna be fine. Neither of them have the capacity to be angry at you. No one does,"

"Besides you."

"Besides me," Eren sighed. "Just suck it up and tell them as fast as you can--"

"You know what, Jean? Maybe you should just shut up. You're stressing me out even more!" Jean narrowed his eyes, sitting up and glaring at Eren.

"Look, man. I didn't come here to get bullied by a pathetic little pipsqueak."

"Maybe you should just leave then!" Eren yelled, standing up. "You were supposed to come here to support me, but if you're not going to, then leave." Jean stared up at him. This wasn't the Eren he was used to seeing. His Eren would have a smug grin on his face, would say a snarky comment and definitely would've hit him by now. But this Eren looked like he was on the verge of tears, whether from the seething anger he felt for Jean-- himself?-- or from fear, Jean didn't know, but... This Eren looked far more broken than he was used to.

"I'm not leaving," Jean said, in the most level tone he could muster. "So sit down and shut up." Without a word, Eren did as he said, pouting at the wall. He only looked up when the front door opened again. He caught sight of Mikasa as she passed for the kitchen, sparing him the barest hint of a smile as she walked by. Eren hung his head.

"She knows something is up." He muttered.

"How can you tell?" Jean just saw her look in here and walk away.

"I dunno, I just can. Just like how she can tell I'm hiding something." Eren wrapped his arms around himself. "She's going to be so mad..." 

"Alright!" Armin came into the room with Mikasa in toe. "The gang's all here. Now, tell us everything." Mikasa sat down next to Eren while Armin sat in his usual chair. Eren leaned into Mikasa as she hugged him around his shoulders. Even if she did know something was up, she couldn't deny that she had missed Eren. It was quieter around the apartment without him.

"U-uh, yeah... everything..." Armin looked strangely excited. "What are you grinning about?"

"Sorry, sorry, just go," Armin composed himself. "I promise that we won't even say we told you so."

"About what?!" 

"You and Jean? You guys finally admit you like each other?" Both boys made faces, first at Armin, then at each other. It didn't matter that the scratches on Jean's thigh were going to scar or that if you moved Eren's shirt to the left, you could still see the bruises there. Of course, they didn't like each other! They were rivals for Christ sake, only getting sappy last night because it was late and they were tired; it was nothing more!

It was nothing more...

"No," Eren said. "That's not what I have to tell you!" Armin sighed.

"Still in denial then--"

"Armin, let him speak," Mikasa said. Her soft voice was one that commanded everyone listen to her and everyone did.

Eren took a deep breath, the air stuttering on it's way out. He didn't know if he could do this. He couldn't tell his only family what he'd done. How stupid he had been. He was supposed to be their protector, the one they looked to when they needed help. How could he do that if he couldn't even control himself? Or at least stop someone from bully another with words instead of actions.

"I got kicked out of school for fighting," He whispered. Both Armin and Mikasa heard him.

Mikasa didn't stick around to hear anymore. Before Eren could take a breath, she had stood and walked calmly from the room, but she wasn't fooling anyone. Even Jean could tell she was furious. Eren jumped when he heard her bedroom door shut. It took all of five seconds for him to burst into tears.

Jean didn't know what to do. Wasn't the ever caring Armin supposed to rush to his side at times like these?! Wasn't Mikasa supposed to shake him out of it and tell him he was stupid for crying? Shouldn't _someone_ be doing _something_!? But when Jean looked at Armin, all he found was a blank face. He'd been laughing and smiling so easily earlier. Now he was just frowning slowly.

"Armin," Jean said softly. "Please,"

"I can't believe you," Armin muttered. He stood up and even Jean was afraid he would leave too. But he didn't leave. He sat down on the other side of Eren-- where Mikasa had been-- and wrapped his arm around his. Armin rested his cheek on Eren's shoulder. "You're such an idiot."

"I know," Eren's words were barely understandable between his sobs. Jean had never seen the kid cry before and now he was wishing he hadn't. Eren's sadness was, like all his other emotions, extreme and loud and ground shaking. Well, body shaking. His whole body shook with the force of his tears, cheeks splotchy and red. Eren was not a pretty crier. Water streamed down his cheeks in rivers that he tried his best to wipe away, but couldn't keep up. Armin just held onto his arm and let him cry.

Jean lost track of time. He was too busy staring at the scene before him. But if he had to guess, it'd been about twenty minutes when Eren finally calmed down enough to speak properly. His words hiccuped as he explained everything that had happened to Armin, apologizing being explanations. Armin listened with a straight face, nodding occasionally. He looked too much like Mikasa when he did that.

"So. You lost control of yourself again and punched some kid and got kicked out for it?" Eren nodded, sniffling. 

"And now Kasa is angry at me..." He whispered. His cheeks were puffy now, eyes bloodshot. 

"She'll get over it," Armin lifted his head and stared at him. "But you need to apologize. Over and over again. She can't stay mad at you forever."

"And you?" 

"I'll get over it eventually to." Armin sighed. "We just... put a lot of money into that, okay?"

"I know, seriously, I-I'll make it up. I promise--"

"There's no making up that kind of money, Eren," Armin sighed again, running his fingers through his blonde hair. "But I guess if you try, I can accept that. For now." Eren stared at Armin, waiting to hear what he really needed to. "I forgive you Eren. For the most part." The embrace was tight enough that Jean feared they'd fuse right into each other. That or Eren would break Armin's skinny frame in half.

"Can we still stay for dinner?" Eren asked.

"I'm not sure that would be the best idea. Not with Kasa angry like this," Armin muttered. "Come back tomorrow? You have a place you can stay right?"

"I'll get a hotel or something," _Bullshit_ , Jean thought.

"Okay. Wait for me to call you." Armin hugged him again. "Even if you are a giant idiot, it's good to see you again, Eren."

"I missed you so much," Armin just pet his hair and sighed.

 

Jean's car was clunky and old. It smelled like fast food and cheap air fresheners. It was nearing the end of it's life, but Jean refused to give it up; not after all they'd been through together. He's lost his virginity in the back of his car, no way as he getting rid of it just yet!

Eren sat in the passenger seat. Even though his face was puffy from crying, he still looked hollow. The kind of face that wouldn't smile again. It hurt Jean just looking at it and that was pissing him off, "Look. You're not staying at a hotel tonight. You know that, right?" Eren just stared at the dashboard. "You're coming back to my place. And you'll sleep on the _couch_ ," Still nothing. "Fine. Whatever. Don't talk. That's perfectly fine," Jeans knuckles were white on the steering wheel, as he turned them towards his apartment.

"We still have one more thing to do," Eren murmured quietly.

"Don't you think there's been enough tears today?" Jean grumbled

"Jean. Turn. Now."

"Eren--"

"I had to face the music. It's your turn. Do it." Jean, growling under his breath, turned left on the next street. "He's gonna be happy to see you."

"Don't pretend he's still alive." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes. Another chapter. Be prepared for some Marco feels in the next.


	3. Songs Live On (pt 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Marco and Jean: the package deal. If you wanted Marco to come to your party, then Jean would tag along. If you banished Jean from the lunch table, then Marco left too. They were always together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, so I'll try to get another one out soon again. This one is also going to be talking about suicide. I would suggest you skip the chapter if that bothers you too much.

On Jean's tenth birthday, his parents told him that they were getting a divorce. It was, by far, the worst birthday present he'd ever gotten.

On that same day, while he was hiding in a tree house, someone else climbed up and gave him a small box wrapped poorly in polka-dotted wrapping paper. The Frankenstein present was given with a gap-toothed smile on a freckle filled face. Marco Bodt proudly declared that he had wrapped it himself, "No help, whatsoever. I made it myself and wrapped it too!" Jean didn't need to open it. It was already his favorite.

Inside had been a handmade bracelet, one with screwups and knots where there should not have been knots. But they were his favorite colors-- red, gold and silver-- and Marco had worked for the past three days on it. He had a matching one on his own wrist, "Mama said friendship bracelets can help remind us that no matter where we are, we'll always be friends." 

Back then, Marco had always done things like that. They wore matching shirts because then people would _know_ they were friends. They held hands on the playground so neither would be left behind. Jean could never figure out why Marco was always so adamant about reminding everyone that they were best friends. He'd liked to think it was so people would never try to get between them. Marco and Jean: the package deal. If you wanted Marco to come to your party, then Jean would tag along. If you banished Jean from the lunch table, then Marco left too. They were always together.

Marco had been the one to scold patch up Jean after every fight he got into. He'd made Jean sit on his kitchen counter, no matter how old he was, and let him clean up his cuts. It had almost been tradition at this point. Jean fought for Marco, Marco fixed him up until he was better again. It came with the friendship.

They had been only sixteen when Jean realized how in love with his best friend he really was.

He had been eighteen when he was finally able to admit it.

One week before Marco took too many of his sleeping pills, Jean had asked if he wanted to go hang out at the park with him.

Of course Marco did. He always did.

They had spent their entire lives at the park. There was the paint chipped swing set that had chipped Marco's front tooth when he fell from it. There was a tree in the forest that had a smiley face carved into it, one Jean had done with a switchblade stolen from his father, but eventually returned per Marco's pleading. The slide that heated up in summer and had burned Jean's thighs. The merry-go-round that they stood on the first time either had ever had a cigarette. The merry-go-round where they both decided that smoking wasn't for them.

Oh, how Marco would laugh if he knew how addicted to them Jean was now.

They sat on the swing set and talked for hours. It was one of Jeans favorite things about their friendship. They knew everything about each other, from head to toe, from frontal to occipital lobe. And yet they somehow managed to talk for hours on end about nothing at all. That night, though, Marco recalled their entire relationship, from the very beginning. That fateful day when a new family moved in across the street with a tan, freckled toddler with a habit of picking up lost things and keeping them. His room was a cluttered mess of deflated balls, robots with their arms missing and barbie dolls with hair cut too short for them to be "pretty" anymore. Jean had been another thing he'd picked up. Even back then, people could see something was missing with the boy. For a child, he had such an empty stare. Marco had taken one look at him and knew they would be best friends.

Jean had taken one look at him and wondered how it was possible for someone to have so many polka-dots.

That night, after their story made it to the present, Jean had skidded his feet across the dirt to slow himself and waited for Marco to do the same, before he told him that he loved him.

Marco had laughed. 

Though, he did sober up once he saw how serious and hurt Jean had looked. He loved Jean back, of course, but not like that. Marco didn't love anyone like that. He didn't even know if he was capable of it. All he knew was that the look on Jean's face when he explained this to him was more heartbreaking than the stare of a kicked puppy. Jean had laughed it off, said it was just a joke, but his voice was starting to break. 

He ran home.

The next week, Marco and Jean were not a packaged deal. Jean didn't leave his house, thanked a god he didn't believe in that he didn't have other friends to invite him out. Even if Marco wasn't there, the sheer force of his embarrassment was enough to keep him away from anyone besides his mother. How could he face Marco after he humiliated himself?! He was still trying to figure out how he was going to approach Marco the next time he saw him when he got the call from a guy who claimed to be Marco's uncle. He only heard bits and pieces;

...Too many pills...Done on purpose....Left notes for different people...one for you, Jean...

Jean's phone cracked against the wall of his room hard enough to shatter it. Jean didn't even hear it. Blood was roaring in his ears. He couldn't process it. Aren't you supposed to feel it when you loose someone you were close to?! Weren't you supposed to know that they were gone without being told? Where was that feeling!? Why, even when Jean couldn't see him, did it still feel like Marco was there?

 

He felt ridiculous attending his funeral. He felt like an idiot, standing there sobbing in the front row while a pastor who hadn't even _known_ Marco spoke about how great he was. What authority did _he_ have to talk about Jean's best friend like that?! 

Jean knew that he was supposed to speak. It struck him as morbidly mundane it was for people to stand up and speak for the dead. His mother told everyone how kind Marco had always been to his siblings, never lifting a hand against them, even when Jean knew that Marco had been the one to put gum in Mina's hair when they were eight. His dad stood and said that no one should mourn for their child, because Marco wouldn't have wanted that; but to Jean, it seemed like that was exactly what he wanted. Why else would he leave Jean by himself?

When it was Jean's turn to speak, he stood at the podium and tried to gather himself together, just enough to get out some horribly cliche words about loved and lost, but he couldn't. He couldn't bastardize Marco with that kind of talk. He couldn't talk period. So he ran. 

And ran.

And didn't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is separated into two parts. This one-- which tells about their relationship before he died-- and the next-- which is about their relationship after he died-- and will end the lyric that reminds me of how Jean feels about Marco's death.
> 
> On a slightly lighter tone, I'm currently blogging over at http://accidentalcosmonaut.tumblr.com/ if you feel like following.  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. But I'm Dancing Alone (pt2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Walking in the graveyard felt strangely timeless. Autumn had been showing his face in the last month or so, the season starting out wet and cold. A fog hung heavy just above them, and circling around them. It didn't feel eerie to Eren. But he didn't feel like he was on earth anymore."

Eren shut the door to Jean's car and set a daisy in his lap, “You should leave something, even if it's just a shitty cemetery flower." Jean was staring at the dashboard. His face was pale, and he was somehow frowning more than usual. “You've stalled long enough. Come on, man."

“Eren... Please don't make me do this." Jean liked to believe that he'd cried all his tears when Marco died, that he had reached his quota. And yet, here he was fighting back tears when they weren't even in the cemetery yet.

“Jean--"

“This is different from you, Eren. You can be forgiven." His voice was soft. Weak, almost. Eren, for all the time he's known him, had never known Jean to sound so helpless. It was almost... scary.

“What did you do that needs to be forgiven?" Jean just shook his head. “Come on, Jean. You have to at some point." Eren opened the car door again and stepped out. Five minutes later, Jean followed.

Eren held onto Jeans sleeve, letting Jean drift down the pavement between the graves. Eren didn't know where Marco's grave was, only hoped that Jean did. And Jean.... He was just walking, seemingly without direction. Walking in the graveyard felt strangely timeless. Autumn had been showing his face in the last month or so, the season starting out wet and cold. A fog hung heavy just above them, and circling around them. It didn't feel eerie to Eren. But he didn't feel like he was on earth anymore. Maybe it was the knowledge of the bodies under his feet or maybe he'd read too many sad poems.

Jean turned to the left sharply, startling Eren out of his stupor. Eren didn't step on the graves; Jean didn't seem to care. They walked over large graves, small graves, old and new. Eren looked ahead, trying to figure out which kinda Marco would have. If he had to chose, it'd be a huge one, with a beautiful angel; something that could at least amount to how strangely angel-like Marco had been.

They finally reached a plot for ground, where the grass was fluffy and a little long. And a grave stone, not a foot off the ground, stuck up in the air with the rest of the teeth like monuments. Not large and angelic, but small and modest, made of carved grey marble.

 

_Marco Bodt_

_Fiercely_ _Loved, Fiercely Missed_

_Brother, Uncle, Friend_

 

Jean bent down, resting his hands on the top of the marble marker and sighed softly. He muttered something Eren couldn't understand. 

“S'not so bad, is it?" Eren asked softly. Jean didn't answer. His head was bent down, shoulders drawn up near his ears. Eren couldn't tell if he was crying or not. He only saw the hunched, burdened form of Jean's bent back. “Jean?"

“I... He just.... _How could he leave me?_ " Jean whispered. His voice shook, just slightly. Enough for Eren to know how badly Jean was fighting not to break down. Four years later and he was finally letting emotions well to the surface. Eren couldn't imagine holding something back like that for for so long. As soon as he felt something, he voiced it, let himself feel it.

“I.... I don't know, Jean. Marco didn't... He just didn't seem like... He was sad..."

 

Here's what Eren knew about Marco Bodt: he was scarily sweet, he somehow always managed to be smiling and he was the only person in the world who could calm Jean down from a fight.

 Marco had talked to everyone. He was the one always apologizing for Jean. No one, especially Eren, had any idea as to why Marco stuck around. Marco had been the good to Jean's evil, though, a balanced twosome. The few times Eren had spoken to Marco, it had struck him how well mannered, calm and patient he was; which explained how he was _able_ to be stick around with Jean, but not _why_. Why would someone like him-- “--Be around someone like me?" Eren sat down and leaned back again Jean. His jacket was cold, damp with the mist.

“How did you two even end up together?" Maybe the answer was in the story.

“We were neighbors. He wouldn't leave me alone, so I started listening to him. Turns out I didn't mind him being around." Eren frowned.

“... He seemed nice... Do you know why--"

“If I knew why, do you think I'd be like this?!" When Marco had died, Armin had called Eren to tell him. He told him about how Jean cried and ran away. But he'd also told him about the four notes Marco had left. One for his parents. One for his sister. One to be read at his funeral. One for Jean.

“Didn't he leave you a note?" Eren asked

“I haven't read it."

“It's been four years--"

“I haven't read it, alright? Doesn't matter how long it's been! I don't plan on ever reading it!" Eren sighed.

“Why not?"

“That is none of your business."

“Do you still have it? Jean leaned his head back, resting it in Eren's shoulder. “You should read it. You might feel better."

“Or feel worse. I don't wanna read it. I'm too scared of what it'll say..." He took a deep breath in. “What if... It was because of me? " he asked softly.

“I doubt it was because of you."

“He could've had friends if it weren't for me. A life. People wanted to be around him and I... I didn't let them." _At least he's aware of it,_ Eren thought. Jeans piss-poor attitude was enough to keep anyone away from him and Marco. “What if he blames me for that? What if that's why he... did it?"

“Marco was-- _is_ too nice to blame you for anything."

“That doesn't make me feel better." Jean swallowed, wishing the pressure behind his cheekbones would go away. It felt like his face was swelling up and would burst soon. He didn't know how much more of this he could handle, sitting six feet above Marco's body. “Just because he's too nice to say it doesn't mean that I'm not the blame."

“Why blame yourself if you don't even know how he felt?"

"Because he didn't trust me enough to tell me something was wrong!" Jean grabbed his hair. "We were supposed to be best friends, so why not? I told him everything. I told him that I loved him, even though I knew he could stop being friends with me for it."

“And you were okay with that?"

“I would be okay with anything, as long as he was alive." Eren felt Jean shutter as he finally started to cry. “I miss him... So much... He's the only person that ever actually cared about me."

“Your parents--"

“Tried pushing me off on each until I was old enough to leave on my own. I was back and forth, all the time. I have to stay with dad because mom has work, but dad has work too, so I have to stay home by myself and make my own dinner and burn myself on the stove that'll leave a scar that's still there 17 years later. Marco was my only constant. He kept me grounded." Seventeen years. Eren did the math in his head.

“Who let's a five year old use a stove?!"

“Someone who's not around to stop him." Eren turned around. Jean didn't cry like he did. Jean let tears slide down his face and didn't do a thing to wipe them away. They dripped off his chin and puddled in his collarbones, tiny lakes forming on his skin. Instead of noise, his shoulders shook and his body shuttered. He cried silently, a practiced ease that said it wasn't the first time he'd had to. 

“Jean... You _need_ to read that note." Eren whispered. "You don't know how he felt, but you _can_."

“No. Never."

“He would've wanted you to--" the world blurred as Eren fell back at Jean's absence. The he was laying on the ground with Jean sitting on his hips with handfuls of his jacket

“Don't ever, _ever_ ," Eren felt his shoulders lift off the ground as Jean brought his face closer, “pretend you know what he would've wanted. How could you know, when I don't?! That's not how it works! That's not how he worked--" Jean's voice broke. Eren blinked slowly, Jeans tears falling on his face.

Eren reached up and wrapped his hands around Jeans wrist, “Read the note, Jean."

“I can't."

“You can."

“Eren, please. Please don't make me." He fell forward, resting against Eren's chest. “I can't do it. Visiting his grave won't ruin me, but that note... Eren I can't. I can't." Eren let go of his wrist and ran his fingers into Jeans hair instead, closing his eyes.

“Maybe one day then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics in the title are from the song Dancing Alone (hidden track) by Alesana


	5. Enough.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Eren's body was warm. It was like lying next to a furnace for Jean. His body radiated heat like that was it's only purpose in life. Jean clung to him for dear life for it. He felt like he had ice for bones and Eren's skin would thaw him. He needed the warmth. He needed to feel safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough sex, sad boys and hot showers.  
> It's taken me forever to put up another chapter. Classes are getting insane with exams coming up, so I might not post as quickly from now on, but I will try my hardest!

The door to Jean's apartment is barely shut before he has Eren against its door. Eren was very much used to the aggressive-- almost possessive-- way Jean kissed. But this evening was different. Jean didn't kiss him, so much as bite and crush him. He held onto his shirt in a way that pressed against Eren's throat, making it hard to breath, but he let him. 

Jean pulled away long enough to mutter, "Come on," Before pulling Eren into his front room. _Not even able to old back for the bedroom, eh?_

Eren was pushed onto the couch. Jean loomed over him, almost overbearing. He pulled off Eren's shirt, then his jeans, then his boxers. He was turned around, knees on the edge of the cushions, the hand in his air pushing his head onto the back of the couch, "Tell me this is okay."

"And if I don't?" Eren breathed slowly, trying to figure out what could possibly be going through Jean's mind.

"Ere--"

"Do what you want. But if you hit me, I'll kill you." That is all Jean needed to hear.

Eren had been roughed up before-- non-sanctioned fights, sanctioned fights, sex-- and been roughed up by Jean before too, but he had known what Jean was thinking then. He knew that he was angry when he punched him and he knew that he was horny and confused the other night. But Eren couldn't see anything in Jeans clouded eyes; granted, he could barely see anything. Jean had limited his movement. With one head, he held both of Eren's wrist behind his back. With the other, he held Eren's hair painfully tight and kept his head down. Each thrust of his hips was hard and sure and bruising. Eren couldn't deny that it didn't hurt, but for some reason, he didn't mind. Jean was taking something out on him and he was letting him! He let him and he didn't know why... He'd never let anyone do this kind of thing to him before. It was a mutual thing every other time and now he was submitting to the one person he'd sworn never to and the question was _why_ but the answer had left with Eren's ability to form coherent sentences.

Jeans fingers would leave bruises. His teeth would leave marks. And his cock was leaving quite the impression on Eren's ass already, as it slammed in and out of him with all of the aggression of sex but none of the affection. Jean was fucking him and that was that. Nothing more.

For some reason, that didn't sit right with Eren.

But he didn't dwell. He couldn't dwell. He could feel that Jean was coming soon by the stutter of his rhythm, by the way Jean was pulling his hair harder.  Eren squeezed his eyes shut, held back the water that dared to drip from them and realized all to late that both boys had forgotten that condoms were a thing. Jean spilled inside of Eren, deep inside of him, growling low as he did. Eren waited for Jean to pull out and finish him off, but he only did the former.

Eren collapsed on the cough, still aching hard, while Jean caught his breath behind him. And then walked away.

"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?!" Eren yelled. Well, tried to. His throat was a mess.

"Shower."

"Get back here and finish me off!" The bathroom door shut hard. Eren growled to himself, standing up. Jean could fuck him hard, push his face into the couch, practically _dislocate his fucking shoulder_ , but no way was he just leaving before Eren came.

Eren banged on the bathroom door. When Jean didn't answer it, he shoved it open. Jean stood in the stream of the shower, steam rising up off his body. He head was bowed, shoulders pulled up. His arms were wrapped around himself in a manner strangely.... _pathetic_. It did nothing to quell Eren's anger, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Eren yelled over the water, "You think you can just fuck me, cum inside of me and then just leave me?!"

"Eren--"

"You don't let to talk, not when you've kept me from doing so by shoving my face into the couch! I understand you're a mess, Jean, trust me, no one understands that more than me! But that doesn't give you free rein to be a dick towards me! You may think sex is simple and emotionless, but I don't! I don't like being used as a sex toy and then left alone," Eren took a deep breath, lowering his voice. "You don't get to use your own self-pity as an excuse to be an asshole." Jean ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath.

"I know..." 

"You know...?" Eren was expecting more of a fight.

"I'm sorry I just... Can't think straight right now." He laughed humorlessly. "I guess Marco still has that effect on me. Look, I'll finish now if you want."

"Well too late now, I totally lost it." Eren closed his eyes a moment. He was getting a headache with everything that had happened. Too much crying. Too much dealing with shit that probably should've been dealt with quicker. Too much learning about Jean when he had expected to stay oblivious. _Am I in too deep? I've only been around him a day and half; no ones opinion of something can change that quickly right? I'm just imagining it..._

"Move over." Eren climbed into the shower with him.

"I'm sorry, Eren."

"Shut up, it's weird hearing you be nice to me." Eren winced as his skin hit the hot water. 

"You're covered in bruises..." Jean muttered, fingers fluttering over Eren's shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"S'fine... not the first time." Eren brushed his fingers away.

Or, wanted to. He wanted to go back to hating Jean, to seeing him as an emotionally inept bastard who didn't deserve the life he'd been handed. Life was easier back then. Life had been easier when they could solve their problems by punching each other and screaming and making snide, passive aggressive comments on the opposite side of the classroom. Eren expected becoming an adult to be difficult, but he didn't know it entailed having to go through shit like this: his own or someone else's.

The shower turned Jeans pale skin an angry red and Eren's tan skin a soft pink. It stung at first, but Eren was learning to enjoy it. There was something enjoyable about the pain of it. He'd never been one to take showers to wash away the day before, but it was starting to make sense to him. It may have been uncomfortable to have Jeans cum dripping out of him, but at least he was getting clean in the process. 

_I really need a break..._

But now he was letting Jean run his fingers over blooming bruises and then his arms were around him too. Jean was leaning a lot of weight on him. Eren may have been held in Jeans arms, but Jean was the one who needed carrying.

"I'm tired." Jean muttered.

"I know."

"I feel like I've been awake for years."

"I feel the same."

"Can we go sleep?" Eren smiled against his chest.

"Not until I get your cum out of my ass."

 

Eren's body was warm. It was like lying next to a furnace for Jean. His body radiated heat like that was it's only purpose in life. Jean clung to him for dear life for it. He felt like he had ice for bones and Eren's skin would thaw him. He needed the warmth. He needed to feel safe.

They curled up together, tucked against each other, tangled in the sheets of Jeans bed. Eren gladly wrapped himself up in Jean's arms, actually happy for the lankiness of his enemy/quasi-lover/ sorta-friend(?) and Jean happily wrapped himself around Eren-- it was like holding onto a stuffed animal, one that breathed and hugged you back. Both boys needed _something_ and neither of them knew what it was, but at the moment... this would be enough. Just this and nothing more. Just sleep and warmth and a vague understanding of each other's brokenness; of Eren's cracks and Jeans shattered pieces.

And that was enough.

It _had_ to be enough.

At least for tonight.


	6. "Hey"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What was wrong with him? He felt a little better about Marco after the visit to the cemetery, but now there was something else bothering him. He found his mind wandering to how Eren was doing, wondering if he was okay and patching things up with his sister. Was Armin okay? Was Eren worrying about him like how he was worrying? Could you call this worrying or was he just starting to obsess? That was always the problem with Jean. He didn't believe he could fall in love anymore. Only a strange feeling of obsession that he couldn't explain. He didn't love Eren. He just couldn't stop thinking about him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had time for once in my life! So this chapter is longer.   
> This trimester is almost over, so I'll have more time to update soon.

It was a while before they saw each other again.

A whole month, to be exact.

Eren spent the month trying to fix things with Mikasa and Armin. Mikasa was distant at best. His sister and protector had been avoiding him at all cost; she hadn't even spoken to him and though Eren loved her usual silence, now it was painful. It was tense and empty of her lightness. So little people had ever actually known Mikasa. They had thought her quietness was her being shy, or conceded or careless, but she wasn't; she was none of those things, but people never got close enough to find out. Eren had been so proud to be one of few people to understand her and what the minute changes of her face meant, but she hadn't even given him the pleasure to having that.

But things were getting better. Two weeks ago, she said good morning to him. The day before, he'd gotten a job at an old, dusty shop run by two Wicca women who'd liked his energy. He was making money to pay back his debt, his sister was warming back up to him, Armin didn't look so sad all the time, and his life was getting back on track. He was starting to find himself again.

So _why_ did he feel like a part of him was still missing?

Even Armin noticed him getting antsy.

"Are you okay?" Eren sat on the counter next to him, watching Armin stir a pan filled with onions, carrots and celery.

"Fine," Eren leaned over the pan. "Aren't you gonna add the pumpkin?"

"If you're gonna comment on how I make the food for your new vegan thing you're doing, I'll make you sit in a room with Bert and Reiner for an hour." Eren pouted and hopped down from the counter. "No reply? Come on, Eren, there's something wrong. Do you think I can't tell?" Eren paced around the room, chewing on a rouge piece of celery sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know..." Eren muttered. "It... it kinda feels like I'm homesick, but I _am_ home, so for what?" Eren kicked the cupboards.

"Well, is there anything missing? Like your wallet? Did you forget something in Germany?" Eren groaned.

"I don't know! It's bothering me though. My stomach feels... empty. All the time." Armin looked over his shoulder. 

"When did it start?"

"I dunno... a while ago, maybe. I could just be sick..." Armin raised an eyebrow.

"When was the last time you saw Jean, Eren?"

"What?! What does that have to do with anything?" Armin leveled him with a look. "Like a month ago, I think. Why?" Armin shook his head and turned back to his stew. "Armin--!"

"Maybe you should call him."

"I--I can't..." 

"Why not?"

"I never got his number." Armin groaned loudly. _How can you sleep with someone twice, sob in front of them, see them cry their own eyes out and never get each other's number?!_   

"Do you know where he works, at least?" Eren shook his head. "Really?" Armin knew that Eren was a bit of an airhead-- he always had been, the boy was preoccupied with being the biggest personality in the room-- but this was getting ridiculous. Eren was clingy. Worse than a sock fresh out of the dryer. Worse than a puppy with separation anxiety. Like a Christmas window gel left on the glass for too long. He was the kind of person who'd leave his number on the bedside table of a one night stand he never planned on seeing again. He couldn't just meet up with Jean again, spend two days with him and never find out anything about him! "Well, maybe you should try to find him. Maybe that's what you're missing." 

"What?"

"Jean."

"What?!" Eren spun around, startled, and stared at Armin's back. "Kirstein?! _Horseface_?! You think it's _him_?!"

"Who knows?" Armin mused, grinning softly to himself. "Maybe you guys had more of a connection than you thought. You managed not to kill each other for those two days and it sounds like a lot happened between you too so... maybe..." Eren flopped down on the floor and sighed.

"No... it can't be him... It can't...."

 

Jean stood behind the counter of a department store, staring down at a girl who'd been asking all about him instead of handing him the shirt in her hand. He didn't know what he was doing here. How he'd even gotten the job was beyond him. He wasn't a friendly person and he didn't have a friendly face. But his face was handsome and it didn't take long for him to notice that questionably attractive staff. Everyone who worked there was a spokesperson for some sort of new trend; the only other boy who worked there always had his hair pulled into a bun. There was a girl who always wore black and with her newly died hair. One girl wore pastels. One never wore anything besides a dresses. He still hadn't figured out what his gimmick was.

"Hey, John." He sighed through his nose, closing his eyes for a second, trying to convince himself not to glare over his shoulder. But he lost that fight. The girl behind him-- Marty, the tomboy, as he had deduced-- smiled at him. "Listen, Johnny boy," It took everything he had not to leap over the counter and run away. He was already in a bad mood, and though he was used to his coworkers and boss all pronouncing his name wrong, for some reason, it pissed him off even more today.

"What?" He asked.

"I get that you're supposed to be all brooding and angry, but the ladies might start to think you're scary if you keep it up." He rolled his eyes and turned around, leaning back against the counter. "That dark, handsome type is appealing and all, but it's just an act right?"

"Are you calling me fake?!" 

"Ooo, guess not." She grinned. "Tend to your customer." Marty turned him around. Jean sighed and fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Did you find everything alright--"

"Jean?" He opened his eyes. Standing below him was a girl with wild brown hair and large brown eyes, slurping down the largest smoothie he's ever seen in his life. "I didn't know you work here!"

"O-oh, hey, Sasha." She grinned at him.

"I haven't seen you since Marco's--" She stopped, eyes widening. "U-um--"

"Sasha, it's fine," Jean didn't know what it was that made him feel better around Sasha. Maybe it was the way she radiated energy, or how she didn't know how to censor herself, but he'd never been able to hate her. Her boyfriend, Connie, on the other hand, was annoying as hell. But Sasha was sweet and open and could never lie. She was... strangely relaxing to be around."How are you?"

"I'm good. Great! Look!" She held out her hand. A small, modest diamond decorated her finger. "Connie finally popped the questions! Guess how he asked!"

"There was food in it, wasn't it?" She grinned.

"It was on top of a cupcake." Jean smiled. He couldn't help himself. Not when Sasha was talking fast and excitedly about the whole ordeal, their plans for the wedding, how Connie wanted a whole bunch of children, but she'd only want four or five. Jean gladly listened, feeling his bad mood fade away. By the end of her long rant-- had she even breathed?-- he was even smiling slightly.

"So!" She finally took a big breath in. "How have you been? Armin told me that you and Eren met up again!"

"You still speak to Armin?"

"Speak to him! Ha! We're meeting up here in a little bit, I'll bring him by! But yeah, we were talking the other day, apparently Eren has been acting weird, Mika and Arrie have been worried about him, ya know? But apparently it doesn't seem like he's angry about what happened in Germany--" God, Jean had realized how much he missed people like Sasha. "But, whatever! You were telling me how you've been."

"Fine."

"And Eren?"

"I dunno... haven't seen him in a while."

"Really? Arrie told me you guys had like, totally wild sex of something--"

"Sasha!"

"So I just figured you guys would still be going at it and everything, but I guess both of you are kinda in a weird place in your life, you know?" 

"I know." He nodded. "Everything is a little weird now..."

"Not sure how you feel?" He shrugged. "I remember that! Connie took _sooo_ long to even admit he liked me as a friend, you now? He hadn't even asked me out until senior year and didn't kiss me until after graduation!"

"Wait... I'd thought you guys started dating in freshmen year?" Sasha laughed. 

"No, no no no... Connie and I have always been sorta meant for each other, at least that's what I think. I mean, we were both confused and everything, at first, but we realized very soon that we were way more alike than we thought," Sasha's smile turned into something he'd never seen before. A softer, shyer one. _Damn_ , Jean thought to himself, _never thought I'd ever use the word shy to describe Sasha._ "There was this one time, in our junior year, when everyone else was passed out at that party Reiner threw? Well, everyone had promised to play Apples To Apples with me, but no one every did because it was childish or something, and I was really sad... Anyways, Connie woke up and came upstairs to find me just shuffling through the cards and he sat down and started playing me. That's not a two person game, but it was still so much fun but... I think that's when I fell in love with him. You know? It's like, it's the little things. I didn't ever expect to like him so much, but here I am, about to marry him!"

"That's amazing, Sasha." Jean ran his fingers through his hair. "I wish it was that simple though."

"It's not?"

"No, unfortunately... It's not." Sasha sighed.

"Well, I hope it works out! There's other people, I should just buy my things and leave! Well, um, here," She pulled out her phone and slid it across the counter. "Gimme your number. We need to talk sometimes! Plus, I have to invite you to our wedding! Connie's been looking for some groomsmen. Reiner and Bert said they were on board, but it seems a little weird to ask Doctor Ackerman and mister Smith, you know? Anyways," Jean checked her out and gave her back her way too big sweater back. "Thanks Jean! I'll see you soon, alright? We're gonna text all the time!" She did her signature half-run out the doors of the store, leaving Jean feeling strangely empty. He'd been feeding off of Sasha's energy and now he had none of it.

He went home after work. He walked past an old record place and resisted the urge to go inside. He didn't need any old CD's or records but there was a pull there. Something told him to go inside.

He ignored it.

He needed to go home. He needed to sleep. He need to think about things-- or maybe not think about them at all, he didn't know what he wanted, just that he wanted something...

What was wrong with him? He felt a little better about Marco after the visit to the cemetery, but now there was something else bothering him. He found his mind wandering to how Eren was doing, wondering if he was okay and patching things up with his sister. Was Armin okay? Was Eren worrying about him like how he was worrying? Could you call this worrying or was he just starting to obsess? That was always the problem with Jean. He didn't believe he could fall in love anymore. Only a strange feeling of obsession that he couldn't explain. He didn't love Eren. He just couldn't stop thinking about him.

Jean climbed the stairs to his apartment, knees wobbling with every step; he was starting to feel off-kilter. His running through were sending him into a tizzy of wooziness. Maybe he needed more sleep than he thought.

He covered his eyes and walked down the hallway, fumbling in his pocket for his keys, _where_ were his keys? He stumbled and went to lean against the door, but his foot hit something. Jean opened his eyes. Sitting on the ground, half asleep and confused as hell about why Jean had kicked him, was Eren. Blurry-eyed, messy-haired, cloths-rumpled Eren, with his hood half way on his head in a jacket too big for him.

Eren muttered, "Hey..."

Jean whispered, "...Hi."


	7. Down With The Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ""You're prettier when you're asleep." Eren whispered, tracing the lines of Jean's cheekbones. "Maybe because you're not talking. Or scowling. Your eyebrow crease smooths out," He ran his index fingers over the space of skin between Jean's eyebrows. Jean slept hard, not even waking when Eren shifted on top of him, laying chest to chest so he could stare at him. Jean was attractive. Two tones hair, nice skin and eyes that Eren knew to be an ember dark enough to be gold. "If only you didn't frown so much. Your face could get stuck that way, you know," Eren was more comfortable speaking to Jean when he had no way of talking back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half my friends love the idea I have to end this and half of them hate it with a passion.  
> I'm so excited now.

Eren had to help Jean into his apartment. The first time they'd seen each other in months and Jean couldn't even see straight. He saw four Erens. Four of them! One was hard enough to handle.

But Eren was quiet now, leading Jean back to his room. For a twig, Jean sure was heavy. He was leaning all his weight on Eren's shoulders as he dragged him back and dumped him on his bed, "You're sick. When did you get sick?"

"Dunno..." Jean grumbled before promptly passing out. Eren sighed, shaking his head. He'd come over off a whim, maybe just to talk to Jean. _Definitely_ not to sleep with him. Of course not. Never in a thousand years would he do that again. Even if Jean was really good at it and Eren still couldn't forget how his hands had felt on him and maybe had thought about what else Jean might be able to do with his tongue on nights were Mikasa and Armin were both out and he had nothing better to do. _Even if_ , he wouldn't. Not like he could not anyways, with Jean running a fever.

Eren unlaced Jean's boots and pulled them off his feet, tossing them near the closet. He managed to pull off his heavy leather jacket too, though it proved more difficult. And it couldn't be comfortable wearing skinny jeans while sleeping. Eren just barely managed to flip Jean over to get at his jeans. He unbuttoned them and tugged them down his legs. It felt weirdly... intimate to be taking off Jean's clothes without any ulterior or sensual motive. Jean almost kicking him in the face ruined the moment a little, but it was still strange. Eren tossed away Jean's pants before sitting down beside him and pressing his lips to his forehead to check his temperature. Jean's skin was burning up. His cheeks were starting to flush too, even though he was shivering. Eren pulled the blankets on his bed up over him, up to his chin and pushing back his hair.

Then he got to work.

 

It was blurry when Jean woke up; for a second, he had to rely solely on his other sense to tell him what was going on. He could feel his regular sheets, as suffocating and hot and drenched in sweat as they were, and knew exactly was pillow was under his head. He could hear his raspy, stuttered breathing and someone banging around in the other rooms. He could smell something he knew would be warm and his stomach grumbled, though the thought of food nauseated him. 

He stumbled out of his bed and shivered, grabbing his sweatshirt and his sweatpants to put on, a beanie on his head just for good measure. That food smelled good-- damn this sickness that made him wanna throw up-- and he needed it bad. His stomach felt empty enough that he was scared to look at his stomach in fear of not finding it there. He followed the smell of food to the kitchen to see Eren standing in front of the stove on the phone, "Y-yeah, but how do I know it's done? I guess... kinda? Are you sure this won't be too heavy? Really? I guess I'm a little delirious when I'm sick... yeah, okay. Thanks Kasa. Bye, love you too." He hung up his phone as he turned around, dropping the bowl he was holding when he saw Jean. "You're awake!"

"I'm awake." Jean tried to peer around him. "What are you making?"

"Stew..." Eren rubbed the back of his neck. "It's what Kasa always makes me when I'm sick, so I thought... oh!" Eren rushed to the fridge and pulled out a bundle of paper towel wrapped around something. "Sit down and eat this while you wait." Jean took it, sitting at the small table adjacent to his kitchen. He watched Eren stir whatever "stew" was in the pot while he opened up the paper towel to find orange slices.

"Oranges?" Jean asked.

"Armin always says that they're really good for you when you're sick. They always help me. It's the Vitamin C, I think." Jean shrugged and forced himself to eat. Eren looked pleased enough with his stew to turn the stove off and star ladling some into a bowl.

"Where's you get all this?" Jean asked.

"I went out to the store after you fell asleep." He carried the bowl to Jean. "You should eat this too. There's potatoes and carrots and squash in it."

"No meat?"

"Meat's too heavy for your stomach. It's good, promise." He gave him a spoon. "Eat up. I made it for you." Jean, narrow eyed, took the spoon and spooned up some of the broth and a piece of a potato. "What? I called Kasa to make sure I made it right and everything, just eat the goddamned stew already." Jean sighed and lifted it to his mouth, taking a bite. Eren was looking at him with wide eyes, waiting for his review. While making a face like that, Jean didn't want to disappoint him. It wasn't that the stew was bad, it just needed meat. And salt.

"It's good." He said, nodding. Eren frowned.

"You're turning green."

"It's the fever. Food just doesn't... sit well." But he took another bite anyways and Eren seemed happy afterwards. He had a bowl himself-- added salt to it, the bastard-- before cleaning up the mess. Jean managed to eat a quarter of the bowl by himself and half with Eren making him before he thought he was gonna hurl up his entire existence.

"Shower time," Eren said, hooking his hands under Jean's arms and pulling him up from the chair. "If you're not gonna eat, then you're gonna bathe. You're covered in sweat and smell."

"Thanks." Jean mumbled.

"Get the water as hot as you can, alright? Lots of steam. If you get dizzy, call for me,"

"Who knew you'd be such a mother hen..." But Jean let him push him to the bathroom. He almost asked Eren if he wanted to join him, but... that would be stupid. Of course it'd be stupid. Eren would probably say no anyways. Jean was sick and pale and sweaty. Even Jaeger wouldn't think he was attractive. He just got into the shower and followed orders. Hot as he could, lots of steam. His nose almost cleared up.

His shower left him feeling less gross and almost like he wasn't as sick as was. He opened the door just as Eren was walking by, "Oh! Here, I'll give this to you now then," He pushed a clean jacket, a clean t-shirt and a mostly clean pair of joggers at him. "Once you're done, go rest some more." Eren hurried away. Jean couldn't believe what was going on. Eren was in his apartment, ordering him around, and taking care of him. He'd made him food! 

Jean got dressed and made him way to the living room, rubbing the back of his head. It was starting to ache along with the rest of his body. Jean rarely got sick, but when he did, boy did he. He could be sick for week. He collapsed on the couch with the realization that he was actually and truly sick enough where Eren-Fucking-Jaeger had to take care of him.

"Here." Jean opened his eyes. Eren was sitting on the floor, holding a glass of something golden that sparkled and two pills. "Meds. And something to wash it down with."

"What is it?"

"Ginger ale mixed with apple juice. It's a family cure-all. So's the shower thing. Nap, hot shower, ginger ale and apple juice. It could fix a broken leg, for all I know." Jean took it. He was starting to feel like a kid. He tossed back he pills and drank the fizzy mixture. It tasted surprisingly good. "You're lucky it's me taking care of you, though. I won't slather you in Vic's rub or make you soak in an epsom salt bath until you're a raisin or make you drink warm water with lemon in it. I'll also let you stay up past ten, if you want."

"Well, thank god for you," Jean teased, trying to sound light. But his voice was so raspy and strained from the fever, it didn't sound much like anything. Eren sat down on the other side of the couch and pulled up his legs, staring across at Jean. "What?"

"I dunno. You look sort of pathetic, sick like this." Jean groaned and flipped up the hood to his jacket, sinking into it and sighing. It was nice and dark and warm in his hood and he couldn't see Eren like this. No matter how warm is was, though, it didn't stop him from shivering. He felt Eren stand and walk back to his room. He curled up into himself, wishing that some of the heat he felt would seep into his bones already.

"Here I come!" He looked up just in time to see Eren flop on top of him, wrapping a blanket around them both. Jean coughed at Eren's weight on his chest, only struggling for a moment until he realized that he was starting to get warmer. He let Eren snuggle against him and relaxed back into the cushions of the couch. He felt tired. Well, exhausted. And with Eren watching after him, he didn't feel nervous falling asleep.

 

"You're prettier when you're asleep." Eren whispered, tracing the lines of Jean's cheekbones. "Maybe because you're not talking. Or scowling. Your eyebrow crease smooths out," He ran his index fingers over the space of skin between Jean's eyebrows. Jean slept hard, not even waking when Eren shifted on top of him, laying chest to chest so he could stare at him. Jean was attractive. Two tones hair, nice skin and eyes that Eren knew to be an ember dark enough to be gold. "If only you didn't frown so much. Your face could get stuck that way, you know," Eren was more comfortable speaking to Jean when he had no way of talking back.

"I'm very confused right now," Eren crossed his arms on Jean's chest, resting his chin on them. "because I know that we're not great friends or anything, but I can't help but want to be around you. I'm not exactly into romantic relationships either, so what is it? Is it just a need to protect you? I don't think you need protection. Maybe it is a relationship I want with you." Eren laid his head to the side. "Though that probably wouldn't end well. Armin says I'm too passionate and "belligerent" whatever that means. And Kasa says you're too... frigid or apathetic or whatever. Too different. Armin always says that saying opposites attract is bullshit. Everyone knows that like attracts like... I think we're more alike than they think. I think we're just different sides of the same coin," Eren pouted at his own words and sighed. "The same bent, old, tarnished coin, barely worth a half-penny." He sat up and kissed Jean's chin softly. "Do you think one day we'll stop hating each other? I don't think I hate you anymore. You're not as bad as I thought. Maybe one day you'll think the same, Jean. I don't want you to hate me anymore. Being enemies is too tiring. I think I'd like being friends more."

Eren sighed. Jean's feverish skin was too warm to rest against, but Eren kept pressed against him anyways. Anything to help Jean sweat this out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Besides the stew-- I like rice better-- everything Eren's family does with sick people, MY family does with sick people. We swear by it.


	8. Promise Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A delirious Jean was a compliant one. He did just as Eren said without a word. The only time he disobeyed was when Eren told him to stop nuzzling his hair and lay down already. Eren had to force Jean into his bed, under the covers and head on the pillow. Never had Eren seen Jean act like such a needy child. It wasn't adorable so much as annoying, but Eren couldn't help but find it just the tinniest bit endearing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy, it's been so long and I feel so bad for it.  
> Anyways. Here it is. Another chapter, another day.
> 
> Allsoooo, Jean throws up a few times throughout this, so if that grosses you out, this is your warning.

There was a weight on Jean's chest. It was more comforting than suffocating, but it was working it's way there. Fuck, did he feel gross still. His head felt muddled, filled with brain pudding. Jean didn't even like pudding and now his head was brimming with it. Great. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He'd rather die than feel like this any longer.

When Jean breathed in, all he smelled was cookies. Warm ones. Ones with white chocolate and macadamia nuts. Had Eren always smelled like childhood memories of winter nights at his grandmothers?

"Eren?" Jean gasped. He didn't stir. "Eren--" Lungs betraying him, Jean coughed. His voice was a wreck, barely louder than a scratchy whisper.

Even in a weakened state, Jean somehow managed to shove off the sleeping bear cub that was Eren and stumble his way to the bathroom. He'd just made it through the door when he felt his stomach churn. He lurched forward, tripping over his own feet and wretched up all the food Eren had made him. His knees stung from where they'd struck the floor. His own bile burned all the way up his throat. He didn't even have the satisfaction of feeling slightly better when it was over. It was worse. So much worse. It made his head spin more, made his whole body feel empty. He was a wreck. Holy, was he a wreck.

 

Eren's throat was dry. It was the only reason he woke up. He stood, stretched, yawned, scratched. Only after he'd done his usual routine did he notice that his patient was gone.

"Jean?" No reply. "Alright, Waldo, gimme a hint?" Down the hall, there was the unmistakable sound of someone loosing their lunch. Eren's dry throat could wait. "Jean? He was slumped over the toilet, almost translucent at this point, shaking on the bathroom floor from cold. "Do you need anything?" Jean didn't reply. He just moaned softly, biting his lip to keep his stomach inside his body and not inside the toilet. Droll and sweat and tears covered his face. "Tell me if you're okay or not." Jeans eyes fluttered open, stark and golden and _tired_. Not the kind that sleep or anything could fix. The kind that meant Jean was giving up.

"Eren," Jean whispered. "Eren..."

"I'm right here." Jean spoke his name like it was his lifeline; his weathered thread of a lifeline.

"But you won't always be," 

"What?"

"Everyone--" He coughed, face disappearing beneath the rim of he toilet seat. "Everyone _leaves_." Eren sat down next to him, rubbing his back between where his shoulder blades jutted out sharply from his skin, all sharp edges, just barely staying together against the knife points of Jean's bones.

"I won't--"

"Yes, you will." His body shuttered. "Everyone I love _dies_ , Eren. I don't want you to die. I don't want anything to happen to you," Jean sniffed loudly, rubbing at his cheeks as he cried. "Y-you're the first person since Marco wh-who takes care of me," Beneath his tired irises, in the dark of his pupils, his half crazed, fever surfaced fear. Jean was _scared_. He wasn't shaking from cold.

"Nothings going to happen to me, Jean." Eren assured. "You're sick and rambling and confused." Jean slumped, strings cut.

"I miss Marco."

"I know."

"And grandma."

"It's okay for you to."

"I don't wanna bury you too."

"Don't be so morbid. You're not getting rid of me that easily." Eren kissed his sweaty temple lightly.

"Promise?"

"Promise. Let's get some water into you." 

A delirious Jean was a compliant one. He did just as Eren said without a word. The only time he disobeyed was when Eren told him to stop nuzzling his hair and lay down already. Eren had to force Jean into his bed, under the covers and head on the pillow. Never had Eren seen Jean act like such a needy child. It wasn't adorable so much as annoying, but Eren couldn't help but find it just the tinniest bit endearing. Jean wasn't putting up a stupid, tough guy front, wasn't acting aloof and uncaring. Eren liked Jean liked. His was easier.

"Eren," Jean caught his shirt, pulling Eren back down to sit on the edge of his bed. "Don't go."

"Alright. I won't," He leaned against the wall, watching Jean roll onto his side to press his face against Eren's thigh. "You need to sleep if you want to get better. You _do_ want to get better right?"

"I want you to stay."

"I _am_ staying.

"I want you to cook for me more." Jean breathed. The rise and fall of his chest was starting to get deeper, more even. He was finally calming down a bit. 

"I'll cook for you again once you're able to hold it down, okay? Go to sleep." Jean grunted, finally allowing himself to rest.

 

"You were sick! Are you feeling better now? I know! I make great porridge, I can bring that over if you want! I haven't seen Eren in a long time either, so that would be fun too! Ooo, movie night with sick Jean!" Jean had to pull the phone away from his ear at the loud sound of Sasha's voice. "It's been too long since we hung out! I have sooo much more to tell you! Tell Eren I'm coming over, I'll make dinner and everything, Connie says that I'm a natural born chef, apparently I should've gone to culinary school instead of social work! Can't help it though, I love helping children too much!"

"I dunno, Sasha, I'm still pretty sick. Eren says walking is straining myself too much." Sasha laughed.

"Aww, it's cute he's taking care of you. You tell him to shut up though, I won't strain you. Hell! I'll pick you up and carrying you out into the living room if you want! Oh! And I can ask Eren if you wants to be part of the wedding too! I hope you're ready for wedding talk!"

"Will you be bringing the cue-ball?"

"Connie? I'll see if he wants to, but he's been, like, _toootally_ crazy about finishing up this paper he has to write for his bio class. Maybe this will give him a break though. I'm so excited! You tell Eren that I'm coming over around Four and I'm making dinner tonight." She was quiet for a second. "Aren't you going to tell him?"

"I can't right now, he went home to change clothes."

"Oooo, did he spend the night?"

"If I'm too sick to stand, I'm too sick to do anything _you're_ suggesting." Jean sighed. "He was only here to watch me..." He'd even gotten out from Jean's bed in the middle of the night to get something to drink and help him change into clothes that weren't covered in sweat. He'd done more for Jean in the last twelve hours than he ever had in Jean's entire life.

"Well! You tell him as soon as he gets back! I'm gotta go now, though! If I'm gonna cook, I need food! And wine! Can you drink wine if you're sick? It's technically juice, right? Let's say it is! Text me your address, I'll be over by four!" Despite the fact that Sasha had basically invited herself over, Jean wasn't mad. He still texted her the address coming over.

Eren came back and kicked open the door to Jean's room, "I brought you juice. You're probably sick of water." Jean nodded and gladly took the class Eren handed him. 

"Sasha is coming over tonight. She's making dinner."

"Really?" Eren grinned. "I haven't seen Sasha in forever! And I haven't eaten her cooking since high school. Ugh, she's so good at it, I can't wait,"  Jean stared at him. When he really looked, he could see why everyone in highschool thought Eren was so pretty. He had a cute, round face. Round, button nose. Soft, light pink lips that-- even while asleep as he found out last night-- appeared to be always upturned. He knew Eren’s eyes to be a strange mix of green and blue. Eren was Jean’s opposite in almost every way, even physically is seemed. He was so warm and soft and open. Jean was all white skin pulled tight on sharp angles. Even the slant of his eyes was razor sharp (Though, as watery and puffy as they were right though, they barely opened).

"What are you staring at?" Eren asked, turning back to look over at Jean.

"Why are you doing all of this?" He asked. Eren rubbed the back of his neck, letting out all the breath in his lungs.

"Can't we be friends, Jean?" Jean raised a single eyebrow. "I mean... I know lots has happened with us and everything but... I don't... _hate_ you anymore." Eren looked more shy that Jean had ever seen him. "I don't even know if I ever entirely _did_ , but I just... I don't want us to fight any more, okay? We can be friends and stuff." 

"And stuff."

"N-not like... that, okay, idiot!" Jean laughed, the coughed and regretted laughing immediately.

But Eren; Eren was stunned. When was the last time he saw Jean _laugh?_ Or feel show any joy at all? Wow, even on what Jean was calling his deathbed, Jean looked amazing when he laughed. His whole face brightened, mouth curling up, straight teeth being used for a higher purpose besides growling and gritting together. Jean should smile more. He should definitely smile more.

"Yeah, sure." Jean muttered, once his coughing had settled. "Whatever. Friends, I guess." Eren nodded.

"Yeah, good. Friends..." Eren shifted from foot to foot. "Have you bathed yet today?"

"You told me not to move from this spot." Eren crossed his arms. "I get dizzy when I stand up, I'll shower later."

"You're disgusting."

"I thought we were friends now!"

"I'm telling you this for your own good. It's not like I'm going to sponge bathe you or something. You can shower and get back into bed afterwards. If you don't wash the sweat off of you, you'll only get sicker." 

"Yeah yeah, alright mom." Jean muttered. He somehow managed to throw his legs off the side of the bed and stand up without passing out. Walking proved to be more difficult. His center of balance was somewhere in his left kidney's, probably having a party with his ability to see straight. Jean swallowed his pride, "Uh.... do you mind helping me out?" 

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Eren slid under Jean's arm, wrapping his arm around his waist and helping him towards the door. "I wouldn't said something, but you always have that stupid face that tells everyone that you never want help, ever."

"Yeah, Marco used to say the same thing and yet it never stopped him," Jean muttered.

"Ah, so we're talking about him now?"

"No. We're not." But Eren was already grinning. "Stop looking at me like that. I still don't want to talk about it, alright?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Eren sang. "Ew, you smell. We should hurry this rodeo up!"

"What has you in such a good mood?" Jean asked. "I'm over here on the verge of death and you're pretty fucking slap-happy aren't you?" Eren rolled his eyes.

"Nothing, really. Just feels sorta like a beginning, you know?"

"Eren, I swear to Christ, if you turn into a fucking ABC Family Movie on me, we're not friends anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I didn't have the english class I have, I'd be on this so much more
> 
> Anywho, thanks to everyone for reading and I hope you continue to do so and enjoy it! Hopefully I'll be back soon with a chapter filled with Sasha and happiness for once. That's a promise.


	9. Pictures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He took his time in the kitchen, trying to figure out why he hadn't stormed out at the mention of Marco. He usually didn't even like hearing Marco's name, but instead of feeling the need to wallow and cry and isolate himself, he just felt mildly... lost. He didn't know how to feel. He wasn't angry at Sasha for bringing it up, wasn't grateful to Eren for moving away from it, wasn't depressed at just the thought of his best friend. He just didn't feel anything.
> 
> Jean couldn't tell if this was a good thing or not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell weasel, reached a thousand hits on this!  
> Thank you to everyone who's still reading or people who just read one chapter, it still means a lot.

"'Cuz see, Connie thinks we should toootally go with like, blues and stuff, but that's so boring! I want greens with accents of a bunch of other colors so it looks like spring and stuff, all forest-y? I think it'd be soo pretty and awesome and like, a new start or whatever, something cliche like that, Connie would love it if he just thought about it more--" Somehow, for the past ten minutes, Sasha had been able to talk solely on the colors of her wedding and Jean had listened to every word and actually knew what she was talking about. Her brand of energy was oddly relaxing to Jean. Maybe it was just the thought that something this bright with such a big personality was able to talk to him. "Oh! Speaking of, I have to ask you something," She stopped in front of him, grinning from ear to ear. "Come wedding dress shopping with me!"

"Isn't that... isn't that for your bridesmaids?" He asked.

"Well, _yeah_ , but I don't have a lot of _those_ ," She waved her hand. "And they all can't anyways. Annie can't come because she never leaves Bert and Reiner's sides and _they_ can't come because they'll tell everything to Connie! I'd ask Christa and Ymir, but Ymir isn't drinking anymore and dress shops have wine and Christa forbids Ymir from going anywhere near places with alcohol."

"Ymir isn't drinking anymore?" Jean knew little about Ymir besides her drinking problem. For all the years he'd know her, he was fairly certain he'd never seen her sober. She was a heavy weight, carrying around a flask in freshmen year and seeming to have an endless supply of vodka in her car.

"Nope," Sasha sang. "She almost hit Christa awhile back. Luckily, she didn't, but Christa made her swear to not drink ever again and if she so much as raises a hand to her again, she'll hang her from a tree by her own toe nails." Ah, Christa. She was cute and small and, perhaps, one of the most ferocious people that Jean had ever met in his entire life, including Eren, himself and doctor Ackerman combined.

"It's weird to think about a sober Ymir,"

"She's actually quite pleasant." Sasha said. "But my point _is_ , there's no one else for me to ask!"

"Eren won't let me leave the house until I'm better."

"We're not going until next week," Sasha turned around and pouted. "Please, Jean? Please please _please_?  She clasped her hands together and made puppy-dog eyes at him. Jean sighed.

"I'll think about it, alright?" She cheered.

"Dinner ready yet?" Eren peeked into the kitchen, the beginning cords of an energetic electronica song started to play. He'd certainly been making himself at home, even wearing one of Jean's jacket's over his own clothes. It was weird enough seeing Eren for such a long period of time-- especially since Jean had figured out that Eren actively dealt with his messy hair by pinning pieces back with whatever sort of clips or bobby-pins he could find, including a bright purple one with a daisy on the end-- but it was another thing entirely to act so... _domestic_ together. Eren had cleaned the apartment after he'd tripped over the same bag three times in the hallway and had been helping Sasha cook until he decided that he couldn't unless music was playing and went on a quest to find something to listen to.

"Almost," Sasha sang. "Just gotta add a bit more cheese," Two minutes later, Sasha was handing out bowls of penne pasta, covered in cheese, red and yellow peppers and chicken, which Eren longingly picked out. "Eren, I thought you loved chicken?"

"I do," He grumbled.

"Eren's decided to go Vegetarian for a few weeks for the health benefits." Sasha stuck her tongue out and stole the chicken from Eren's bowl.

They all sat in the living room, Eren stuck between two motormouths who never seemed to run out something to talk about. Apparently, they had a lot more catching up to do than Jean had thought. But once they were done with talking about their lives now, they delved into the past, "So! I could not find anything to wear, so I was like, I'll just start sending photo's of the dresses to all my friends and see what they all think because my mom was being sooo unhelpful," Sasha waved her fork around. "And only, like four people text me back and _waay_ too late. Anyways, one person kept texting me back and we decided on that really pretty blue dress I wore."

"I remember that," Eren smiled. "Who helped you?"

"Oh! It was Marco--" She paused and for the first time in a long time, Sasha fell silent, staring at Jean. He looked up and realized both of them were starring at him like an animal that could lose control at any time.

"I remember that," It took Jean a moment to find his words, "He'd hoped you'd wear the blue one, because he knew that Christa was going to wear a red one and he didn't want you two to match." Eren let out a breath.

"Guess I should've consulted him when I was picking out my tie. Still can't believe I matched Reiner at our senior prom," He rolled his eyes. "Ooo, you should wear something like your homecoming dress, that purple one, for your wedding!"

"I looked so bangin' in that one!" Jean stood to take care of their bowls, figuring he wasn't needed for this part of their conversation. He took his time in the kitchen, trying to figure out why he _hadn't_ stormed out at the mention of Marco. He usually didn't even like hearing Marco's name, but instead of feeling the need to wallow and cry and isolate himself, he just felt mildly... _lost_. He didn't know how to feel. He wasn't angry at Sasha for bringing it up, wasn't grateful to Eren for moving away from it, wasn't depressed at just the thought of his best friend. He just didn't feel anything.

Jean couldn't tell if this was a good thing or not.

When he returned to the living room, it was to Sasha declaring that Eren was definitely coming dress shopping with her, no matter what. Jean was just grateful that he didn't have to go. He was never good at picking out clothes.

 

Eren flopped down next to Jean and kicked his feet into his lap after showing Sasha the door, "You handled that a lot better than I thought. Who knew you could handle her like that." Jean shoved his feet off of him.

"I _like_ Sasha."

"Really?" Eren hummed lightly. "Interesting." Jean rolled his eyes. "How are you feeling by the way?"

Jean sniffed, "Fine, I guess. I think I'm getting better."

"Great. Armin said he might come over to tomorrow to see how you're doing." Jean groaned softly. His apartment had never seen so much traffic. He was used to it being quiet, slightly messy and a little cold. But since Eren had come along, his whole world had been tossed into a tizzy and he had no hope of escaping it seemed. 

But it was late and he was tired and Eren appeared to not be making any moves to leave, so Jean supposed he shouldn't dwell on it. He just told Eren he was going to bed before standing up and heading towards the bathroom. He flicked on the light and looked in the mirror, hoping he wasn't horrified by what he saw. It wasn't bad, but he certainly wasn't a fan of the light blue veins her could see beneath his eyes through his skin. He splashed warm water on his face in hope of returning _some_ color back to him.

It didn't work.

When he got back to his room, he entered to find Eren sitting crosslegged on his bed and holding a stack of photo's. He glanced up and waved them, "Sasha gave them to me. They're from high school. You're in some of them." Jean refused to believe he was anywhere but in the background, but sat down next to Eren anyways. Everyone looked much younger in the photo's, Connie still with braces, Armin with shorter hair, Reiner scrawny. These had to have been in their freshmen year. 

"Here," Eren flipped to the next one, "She said you might want this one, so you could keep it if you wanted." The picture was a candid shot of Jean sitting on a picnic table. Beside him, sat Marco. Almost exactly how Jean had remembered him. A little shorter, little ganglier and perhaps a bit happier. Jean still looked angry. "You know, I think I understand why you loved him so much. I mean," Eren laughed softly. "Look at that smile."

"I know." Jean set the picture back down. "Show me the others?"

"Really?"

"Sure." Eren shrugged and stating flipping through them. "Oh! This one is from our sophomore year. We all went to Bert's basketball game. It was awesome, I swear, Reiner shouted louder than the pep-band." Eren flipped to the next. "Oh! And this is when we finally convinced Ymir to tell Christa she liked her." Jean had never in his life ever thought he'd seen Ymir blushing. He was so happy that there was a picture of it.

"You were in the plays?" The picture Eren held displayed him with his arms outstretched on a stage, appearing to sing in a loud voice. 

"No, but I liked to sing. Armin demanded I hope up on the stage once and decided to take a picture when I struck a pose." He shook his head. "Good times." Jean listened to more of Eren's "Good times" and tried to think of his own. He didn't really have anything he could think of. He had been miserable most of high school. Angry too. He didn't have memories that made him laugh just remembering them like Eren did, or ones that made him smile wistfully just thinking about them. 

"Oh. This one was after a fight with you," Eren was grinning in the picture with a black eye, a bloody nose, a split lip and Armin glaring at him as he appeared to be trying to wrestle Eren down to clean him up. “I liked fighting a little too much. For some reason I always has a lot of energy afterwards."

"How do you have all of these?" Jean asked.

"Sasha had this thing where she wanted to document everything and anything; carried that damned camera around with her, too. I always thought it was stupid, but now I'm glad that she did," Eren flicked through them. "Pictures are weird, huh? I mean, just looking at it and I remember all of this perfectly. I haven't even _thought_ about it in years. S'weird, right?'

"I guess." Jean didn't have many pictures. His parents hadn't taken any, he hadn't taken any and Marco had always had this "Live in the moment" attitude that kept him from taking pictures of anything. He supposed he should've taken more pictures when he was younger. Eren looked so happy looking through his. Maybe if Jean started now, in a few years, he could figure out how Eren was feeling. "You guys did a lot of stuff together, huh?"

"Yeah, and it always got out of control. Too bad we don't have any pictures of Reiner and Connie running naked across the YMCA lawn after they broke in to go skinny-dipping." Eren giggled. "Or when Armin lost his cool with doctor Ackerman and they fought for twenty minutes on philosophy until other teacher had to come in and pull them apart," The thought of Armin yelling, let alone yelling at a teacher, was ludacris to Jean. On the other hand, the fact that Connie and Reiner had broke into a YMCA to go swimming naked was so completely and utterly in character for the both of them that Jean couldn't believe he'd never heard about it before. "Maybe I'll start carrying around a camera too."

"Maybe you should..." Jean muttered.

Eren was asleep. He'd spent the night again, laying next to Jean with most of the blankets and the hood of his jacket pulled over his head. Jean stared at him. He couldn't help it. Eren was small and strong, but somehow managed to keep up a foreign type of beauty with it. But Jean was trying to look past that. He knew a lot about Eren now, more than just the big things. He knew that Eren could and would curl up anywhere he sat. He knew that Eren hated dealing with his hair and rolled his eyes when Jean suggested cutting it. He knew that Eren swayed to music that Jean couldn't hear and thought jellyfish were "the cutest, most amazing creatures in the entire world, including both otters and Ferrets, Jean, that's a big deal!" He was starting to learn more about Eren than he knew about himself and it... It didn't bother him. In the slightest. He liked it. He liked it a lot more than he thought he should, but oh god, watching Eren talk about all the things he loved and how it compared to the things that his friends loved was _amazing_. Jean couldn't believe he used to hate no one more than Eren, when now he had to resist the urge to reach out and wake Eren up to get him to talk more. When he wasn't awake like this, it almost made Jean feel lonely. 

He couldn't wake Eren up for such a stupid reason, so he kept his hands to himself, tucked against his chest. It was almost torture. How could Eren lay in _his_ bed, wear _his_ jacket, hog _his_ blankets and think Jean would be able to sleep like this? If this kept up, Jean might just have to start sleeping on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: It's really hard to update when the pug that you're pug-sitting doesn't seem to understand that stepping on a keyboard is not something that you want.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. From: Jeanny Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Eren knew he was fucked. He also knew he had to get back to Jean's apartment. Apparently, they needed to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at updating, and I should feel bad.

Jean sat in the food court of the mall, drinking a milkshake. He could finally breath without rasping and see straight, so Eren had demanded he start going back to work in fear of Jean getting fired. He hadn't been fired-- he hadn't even been scolded-- but he had been given the max amount of hours he could have this week and knew he would be exhausted by the end. He was just glad he got a break for lunch.

He was scrolling mindlessly through Facebook on his phone when he a notification popped up with a message from Sasha. He opened it as he stood up to walk back to the store and get back to folding clothes-- and promptly choked on his milkshake at the sight of the picture Sasha had sent him.

 

Eren, still wearing a large, cupcake-esque wedding dress, leaned over Sasha's shoulder, "Did he reply yet?" She giggled and batted him away, "Come on, I wanna see!" Sasha waved her hand. 

"He's read it but he hasn't replied. Go change and we'll see if he replies when you get out," Eren shrugged and waddled back into the dressing room. The dress had fit him wonderfully, but it was starting to get hard to breath in the rib area. Guess that's what he got for choosing the dress with the corset lacing in the back. He wiggled out of it, hoping it the picture of him had the effect he wanted on Jean: Surprise, maybe mixed with a bit horror. Eren liked messing with Jean more than he would ever admit, and this seemed like a great way to tell him about how fluid he felt with his gender.

"He replied!" Sasha called. Eren hurried to do up his jeans before bouncing out, sitting back down next to Sasha to rest his chin on his shoulder. 

**From Jeanny Boy:**

**i thought YOU were the one who needed a dress....?**

Eren pouted. He had been hoping for a much more entertaining response than _that_. When Sasha's phone dinged again, he got the tinniest bit hopeful.

**From Jeanny Boy:**

**...tell him he looks nice for me though...**

"Aww," Sasha grinned. "Jean thinks you look nice." 

"Oh course, because I do look nice," At times like these, Eren was away thankful for his darkly colored skin. It made it much harder for anyone to tell that there was a chance that he maybe, possibly, could be blushing at Jean's text. "You should go try on the dresses you picked out now." Sasha jumped up.

"Will do! Thanks for coming, by the way," She hurried back to the dressing room, Eren perching on the couch and opening his phone up. He wanted to just play all the stupid games, but once again, Jean decided to invade his thoughts. He couldn't help it. After everything Armin had said and seeing how Jean treated him now, he didn't know what to do with himself. He spent much of his time at Jean's apartment that it felt almost like his own now. He had his own towel handing on a the rack outside the shower curtain. Jean had put two extra blankets on the bed specifically so Eren wouldn't steal his. Not only did he spend his time there, but he had been welcomed in. He liked being like that with Jean.

"Okay, so what about this one?" Sasha pushed the curtain aside. The dress she wore fell over her body like a milky waterfall, trailing on the ground behind her. It was pretty, but did absolutely nothing for Eren. "By your face, I'm going to go with a no?"

"Just doesn't fit you." Sasha nodded.

"I agree. Too... flowy." Eren nodded. "I can't dance in this."

"Is dancing your main goal?"

"Of course." She tossed Eren her phone. "Here, take a picture and send it to Christa, see what she thinks." Sasha tossed both her arms into the air and gave her usual, large Sasha grin for Eren. 

While Sasha found her way into another dress, Eren scrolled through random things on her phone, until curiosity got the best of him and he opened up her conversations with Jean. It was an invasion of privacy on both their parts, but since Sasha used to send her dirty text to Connie to Eren before she sent them to her boyfriend to spell check, he figured it would be fine.

Most of it seemed fine, normal stuff. Sasha planning things and Jean just going along with it. Boring. Not nearly as interesting as Eren had hoped it would be, at least.

Until he got an idea.

**To Jeanny Boy:**

**U could tell him ur self, ya knoow...**

Eren bounced his leg, half of his brain telling him that Jean was at work, he wouldn't reply, while the other half informed him that Jean had replied earlier and also, when the fuck did Jean ever do anything he was supposed to? Besides, it's not like Jean would know it's him; if there was one talent Eren had, it was sounding like Sasha-- and to a lesser degree, Reiner.

**From Jeanny Boy:**

**He wouldn't believe me if I said it.**

 

**To Jeanny Boy:**

**He might u nevr know until you try**

 

**From Jeanny Boy:**

**Sash, eren doesn't like me all that much, he'd think i'm insulting him.**

 

Eren pressed his lips together and curled up his legs. Would he believe him? If Jean had been standing in the same room as him?  No, he probably wouldn't have. Jean didn't say things like that, at least not to him. Well, _now_ he had, but that was very uncharacteristic of Jean. Jean was course and mean and quiet until he became angry. He wasn't some blushing school boy who didn't want Sasha to tell Eren how cute he thought he was.

**To Jeanny Boy:**

**i think eren liks u a lot more than u think... ;))**

**Do u lik him? LIKE like him???!!**

Okay, now Eren was the one feeling like a blushing school boy. Next, he'd likely start writing his name with Kirstein behind it all over his notebook. It wasn't even that he was in love with Jean or anything, but he didn't hate him. Whatever he was feeling wasn't akin to friendship at all. Eren had never been in love before-- unless you count the odd puppy love he'd had with Armin when they were children-- and he had an inkling that it wasn't usually this confusing, but... maybe if he knew how Jean felt... maybe he'd know.

**From Jeanny Boy:**

**Honestly?**

 

**To Jeanny Boy:**

**HONESTLY**

The message he got back was lengthy. Eren didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one.

**From Jeanny Boy:**

**I'm not sure... It feels different from when I liked Marco. When I liked Marco, it felt crushing and desperate and shit and whatever I feel for Eren now is just.. different... its more like i want him to just stay at my apartment with me and just talk all the time even thought i used to hate his stupid mouth... it's stupid. I'm being stupid. I don't know what it feels like to to like someone who you might actually have a chance with...**

 

**To Jeanny Boy:**

**U think u hav a chance???**

 

**From Jeanny Boy:**

**A very very VERY small chance, but i get the feeling that if I was less of a jerk, then maybe...**

**But that's not going to happen, i can't even think straight when he's around**

 

**To Jeanny Boy:**

**maybe if you talked to him about it...?!!?!**

"Are you texting Jean on my phone?" Eren jumped as Sasha leaned over his shoulder, a white mermaid style dress clinging to her body. Eren pouted, "Come on, lemme see what you're saying," She snagged it back.

"Please don't." Eren muttered.

"Don't use my phone then," She was scrolling, lips pursed. And then, she slowly smiled.

"Oh, this is wonderful. I love this. I can't wait to tell Christa--"

"You can't tell!" Eren stood up. "Please... it'll make it harder. Just... just don't say anything about it until we sort this out, alright? Promise me Sasha!" She breathed in deeply and gave a dramatic sigh. "Promise me." She handed the phone back.

"Fine, I promise. No words from me," She mimed zipping her lips. "But I'm the first to know when you finally figure everything out!" Eren nodded as her phone started to vibrate all over again. Sasha grinned widely and skipped away, "Every detail later, Eren! Even the dirty ones!"

"There won't be dirty ones!"

"Yeah right!"

 

**From Jeanny Boy:**

**That's not going to happen and you know it. I'd say something stupid and fuck up.**

**You better not tell him about any of this! I'll tell Connie about that horrible letter you were going to send him in tenth grade!**

 

Eren knew he was fucked. He also knew he had to get back to Jean's apartment. Apparently, they needed to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.  
> Hopefully this goes somewhere good. But who knows? I certainly don't.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!


	11. Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They were both looking at each other, neither look judging, why should they feel awkward about it? It wasn't like they hadn't seen every part of the other before, anyways.
> 
> Eren realized he would never get what he wanted unless he took it,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a spring break!  
> I will make NO promises, but if I can, I'll try to update at least once over the next week or so.

Jean notices Eren's odd mood, but doesn't exactly know what to do about it. He's never really been good when it came to dealing with emotions, his own or someone else. So he just tries his best not to piss him off more. He tiptoes around him, taking care of his dishes and picking up his socks. It was all he could think about doing. 

He couldn't take his eyes off Eren for a moment either. Not for any worry of Eren's health, just because he was... well, he was sort of cute, sitting there on the other end of the couch, curled with with a pillow and a pout of his face. He was looking at the TV, but wasn't watching it. Not to mention that Jean couldn't get the image of Eren in a dress out of his head. 

"So..." Jean mused. "Um... did Sasha find a wedding dress?" Eren grunted out a response that Jean took for a yes. "You um..." Jean it his lip as Eren turned his eyes onto him. "You... put one on too?"

"Uh, yeah. Sasha didn't like being the only one trying things on," He muttered, slumping back.

"Do you do that often then?"

"What?"

"Wear dresses?" Eren snorted softly.

"I'm more of a skirt person myself, but I guess. I just wear what I like to wear and skirts are comfortable. High-waisted ones are the best, I can wear t-shirt with them," Eren laid his cheek on his knees and looked at Jean. "Does that bother you?" No. Jesus, no, that didn't both Jean at all.

"Uh, no, not really." Eren blinked slowly. He was looking at Jean like he was expecting something from him, but Jean couldn't guess what. He tried to think back and figure out if he'd done something wrong recently. They seemed to be on pretty good terms as of late. Eren and Jean had, surprisingly, worked well together. The past week or so had been.. pleasant, besides Jean's sickness. Eren had spent more time at Jean's place than he had at his own and it felt more comforting than intrusive to him. Jean didn't usually like people in his place, but Eren almost _belonged_ there.

Besides, Jean didn't mind waking up with Eren next to him so much. it was a lot more appealing than waking up alone.

"Do you think..." Eren muttered. "Do you think you'll ever love someone like you loved Marco?" Jean pressed his lips together and looked away. He couldn't look at Eren. He couldn't look at anything.

Eyes closed, he sighed, "No... I know I won't. That like that..." Jean lined up his breathing with Eren's, keeping himself calm. It was almost laughable, how much Eren had helped him do that recently, even when he didn't know it. 

"Oh."

"But that's not to say I won't _ever_ love someone again," Jean ran his hand down his face, "Christ, it sounds so cliche when I say it like that, but it's true. I refuse to believe that you can love two separate people in the same way. I loved Marco, that's obvious by now, but... if I ever fell in love with someone else, it would be different. I know it would." Jean rubbed his cheeks and bit his lip and wondered if what he was saying made sense. "I sound stupid."

"No. You don't." Eren was staring at Jean, eyes wide. It wasn't as unnerving as one would think.

"What about you? Have you ever been in love?"

"Nah, not really. I mean, Armin and I kinda had a puppy love thing when we were little. I've dated a few people since; boys, girls, people who were both or neither.  All different sorts of people too... but, I dunno, nothing ever felt right though," _Until now_ , he thought. He kept his mouth shut. Jean finally looked back over at him, a small smile on his face.

"Guess we're both unlucky." He muttered.

"Guess so." Jean smacked his knees as he stood up.

"I'm gonna get a beer. Want one?"

"I don't drink."

"Of course you don't," Jean disappeared around the edge of the couch and into the kitchen, leaving Eren to his thoughts. He wasn't sure what he expected of Jean. Some sort of sweeping confession, with rose petals and poems? Or maybe a passionate kiss in the rain? Eren had never been one for romance, but it couldn't be so bad to have a moment from one of those cheesy, sappy movies, right? 

He followed Jean in the kitchen, leaning against the wall to watch him. When Jean noticed, he didn't say a word, just leaned against the counter and looked back at him. The staring contest that followed didn't feel awkward. They were both looking at each other, neither look judging, why should they feel awkward about it? It wasn't like they hadn't seen every part of the other before, anyways.

Eren realized he would never get what he wanted unless he took it, "Jean? Do you like me?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Eren sighed and stepped closer.

"That's not what I meant," Jean paused, lowering the lip of the bottle in his hand. "I mean... not like friends or sex friends or something, I mean like... romantically." Another step, "I mean like, someone you want to spend a lot of your time with, and talking with and, I dunno, going out with," Two, three, four, five more steps and he was in front of Jean. His golden eyes were wide, lips parted just so as he looked down at Eren. "Do you like me like that, Jean?" Eren worried the inside of his lip, waiting for Jean to _just answer_. Didn't he know by now that Eren couldn't take shit like this?!

"I-I," Jean took a deep breath, not taking his eyes off Erens, "I... think so..." Eren let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Eren?"

"Good," He wrapped his arms around Jean's narrow waist, leaning heavily against his chest with his cheek pressed against Jean's shoulder. "Good..." Jean stood stock still for moment before slowly returning the hug, arms around Eren's shoulders. Feeling bold, he let his chin rest in the nest of curls Eren called hair and let his eyes flutter close.

After some time sitting there-- a second, a minute, an hour?-- Eren lifted his cheek from Jeans chest to look up at him instead and finally remembered, "Oh. I like you too, by the way," Jean snorted.

"Yeah, _by the way_." He sighed. "I don't... I'm not good at being close with people, you know."

"You think I could know you for this long and _not_ know?" Jean frowned. "That's not what I... Jean, I know that you're a bit difficult to deal with, but I still-- I like-- I know you're..." Eren sighed. "Can you just believe I like you and make an attempt to actually enjoy being with me?"

"I do enjoy being with you," Jean was blushing. It was kind of cute actually. He wouldn't look at Eren anymore, too embarrassed to talk about his own thoughts. 

Eren just smiled, "And I like being with you," Eren knew what he wanted. And he also knew that they had done it many times before, it was just the reason _why_ that made him nervous. It was the message behind it. The whole concept was going to give him a headache if he didn't just get it over with. And, so, he closed his eyes and stood up a bit on his toes to press his lips again Jean's.

This wasn't the possessive, angry, aggressive way that they had kissed each other before. There was no tangling tongues, biting at lips and no clacking of teeth. It was simply this: two people afraid of their own and each others feelings, closing their eyes and resting their lips together. For a moment, they were the only two people who mattered in the world, each completely aware of the other and drowning in it. 

It was less of a kiss and more of a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need everyone to know that I have to actively look back on past chapters to make sure I got my own story right.  
> Thanks for reading!


	12. Bar Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I go back and read past chapters, the more horrified I get at my mistakes.  
> I either need to read them more carefully before posting, or get a fucking editor

It was surprisingly easy to fall into, the routine of being with someone. They already knew how to live together, it was just remembering that they were allowed to touch each other that they had a problem with. It was remembering that Eren wouldn't hit him if Jean pulled him against his chest while they were in bed. It was remembering that Eren was allowed to flop down in Jean's lap instead of the rest of the couch. Once they got the hang of that, though, it got better. On the other hand, Jean found himself thinking, the nights Eren spent at his own apartment with his siblings, had started to feel a little lonelier.

For now, Jean was just trying to get used to the fact that Eren really liked to touch. He'd walk past Jean and run his hand along his back, or wrap his arms around Jean's for no reason besides the fact that he could. He seemed to favor that instead of holding hands, which Jean was thankful for. 

"I think Armin and Mikasa know," Eren sat down next to Jean and laid with his head on his thigh. "Or, at least, they suspect."

"You haven't told them?"

"I wanted to ask you first," Jean ran a hand down his face. He still wasn't used to being considered.

"Uh... I don't care if they know," Jean muttered.

"Good. Because it's killing me to not tell them," That's what Jean figured. Eren was too close to the both of them to keep secrets. "And I kinda would like to tell everyone else too, if you're okay with it...?" He didn't think that Jean _would_ be okay with it. Jean had always seemed like the kind of person to not want to broadcast this kind of thing. It would probably embarrass him or something.

"Um... I dunno..." Jean rubbed the back of his neck. "Might be okay..."

"Really?" Eren sat up, grinning. "So, what you're saying is, that it's okay for us to go out to the bar with everyone tonight?"

"Wait, what?!" Eren stood up. "But you don't drink--"

"We're leaving at eight, get dressed!" Jean groaned.

"Christ..."

 

Jean had to wonder if Eren did things like this on purpose. He had to have known. No one just wore jeans like that because the liked them and Eren certainly didn't wear skin tight, dark blue jeans-- that he couldn't have been wearing anything under-- and a much too loose green tank top that showed a beautiful amount of his sides and neck because he thought he looked "okay" in them. Eren had to know that he was really warring down Jean's resolve to not drag him into an alley and see if he really was wearing anything under his jeans.

They waited in a short line to get into the bar, ID's already out and looking around for any of their friends, "Eren, we're late, they're probably already inside," Eren scoffed.

"You obviously don't know them... besides, it's not my fault you had to make sure your hair looked good ten million times," 

"I look in a mirror once and I'm Satan," Jean rolled his eyes. "It took you ten minutes to just put on clothes."

"These jeans are very tight."

"Buy a pair that fits then," Eren turned a glare on Jean.

"Says the guy that's been eyeing my ass the whole way?" Jean didn't reply.

They got inside and wadded their way through the crowd, fingers laced. The bar was dimly lit, people talking and moving everywhere, some pressed together in the middle of the floor to music that played through large speakers hanging from the ceiling. The room was heavy with smoke and the smell of sweat. Jean had frequented places like this a lot in his life that it was almost nostalgic to be back in such a dark bar. Eren seemed a bit more uncomfortable. 

He hopped up on the only empty bar stool and hooked his leg around Jean's hips to pull him closer, arms going around his neck, "I'll apologize for being a jerk if you do." He said. Jean smiled slightly.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Sorry. There, problem solved." He ran his hand over the stubble on Jean's jaw. "Wow. Imagine how many black eyes I wouldn't have had if we'd just done that." that made Jean laugh.

"Aw, but you looked sorta pretty with a black eye," Eren rolled his eyes a Reiner and Bert walked over. "Am I still allowed to make those kinds of jokes now that you're fucking Kirstein?"

"You weren't allowed to make those jokes when you started dating me," Bert muttered. "Hey guys,"

"Hey, Bert." Reiner and Bert were just as Jean remembered. Shorter, louder and broader Reiner, who's presence took up half the room; and taller, skinnier Bert, who was already sweating, muttering all his words and running his fingers through his short hair. The way the acted with each other hadn't changed much either, with Reiner forcing Bert into conversations and then promptly talking over him. Bert didn't seem to mind, but then again, Bert didn't seem to mind anything Reiner did. It always confused Jean on why Bert was even _with_ him, it seemed that Reiner mostly used Bert as a prop or someone to help him intimidate people but Eren had sworn up and down on the bus on the way here that there wasn't a lot of couples on earth who loved each other like they loved each other. Jean supposed that he shouldn't judge someone that he didn't fully understand.

"I'm gonna need something fruity for the tall one," Reiner spoke to the bartender like an old friend. "And something hard but doesn't taste hard, for me."

"How are you guys?" Bert asked, ignoring Reiner's loud banter behind him. "I heard you were sick a little back, Jean?"

"Uh, yeah, but I'm all better." Jean was trying to untangle himself from Eren. It felt weird to be so wrapped around someone while talking to his friends.

Eren was not about to let him go though, "All thanks to me, by the way. I'm a great nurse," He held onto Jean harder, resting his head on Jean's shoulder and grinning. "If anyone else is sick, just give me a ring--" Someone laughing cut him off. Ymir, Christa, Sasha and Connie appeared over Reiner's shoulder. It was odd to see Ymir there, Jean thought that Christa was threatening her life over alcohol.

"Yeah right, you just called Armin and Mikasa, didn't you?" Ymir asked. "You're the useless one Jaeger."

"Hey..." Jean kissed the top of Eren's ear lightly, surprising a smile out of him. Jean fought a smile himself; _mission accomplished_ , he though. There was one easy thing about Eren, and that was making him happy. He was surprisingly easy to please. Sometimes, Jean would just frown _less_ and Eren would be in a good mood for the rest of the day. Sometimes, his mood shifted so much it gave Jean whiplash, but he was fond of every time Eren's sad, drawn face turned up and brightened. It was a dream to see.

Mikasa and Armin showed up soon after, all of them finding a both in the corner and sitting around. Jean made sure to sit on the edge, Eren pressed to his side and his arm around him. Between Sasha, Reiner, Ymir and Eren, the rest of them were already verging on exhaustion, but it was only nine-thirty. If Jean suggested leaving, Eren would make them stay long.

"Jean? Let's go get the next round," Christa smiled and slid form the booth. "Come on, I need someone else to help me carry drinks."

"Sure." He gladly hurried to the bar with her. Christa, ever the angel. Jean was terribly thankful for it.

"Nervous?" She asked as they waited for one of the bartenders to notice them. "You seem nervous."

"It's just weird..." Jean rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno. It's not like any of you are even that bad, I just feel uncomfortable around you guys when you've all been such good friends for such a long time." Christa elbowed him.

"Hey. You're are friend too, believe it or not." He shrugged. "How are things with Eren?"

"Fine. Why's Ymir here?"

"She swore up and down she'd be fine, so she gets water, I get one more drink and you need to stop trying to change the subject." She smiled. "Tell me more than fine, Jean." Jean ran his hand down his face.

"It's... nice? It's really nice. I like being with him. I like cooking together and watching dumb TV movies and sitting around..."

"But...?"

"But I'm scared that it's gonna end and I'll be left feeling hopeless again." Christa nodded. "I'm afraid I'll fuck up and we'll get into a really, really bad fight and I'll say something stupid that'll make him hate me again."

"You're afraid to break up, then?"

"No, not... exactly. I'm just afraid he'll hate me. If we broke up, but still managed to be friends I'm fine, but I can't... I don't know how well I'd handle loosing someone else again, you know?" 

"Why don't you tell him about this?"

"I don't want to guilt trip him into doing something he doesn't want to." Jean sighed, picking up five of the drinks set in front of them on the bar. "I'm trying not to be negative anymore, though. Eren keeps telling me that it gives him bad vibes or something, I dunno. So, I guess, I'll just enjoy it while I can,"

"That's how the rest of us make our way through life. It's nice that you've joined the club," She grabbed the other four and carried them back.

Jean had barely sat down before Eren was draping himself over him again, leaning up to whisper in his ear, "How badly do you wanna finish this drink?"

"I-I dunno... why?"

"Cuz I want to go home," His hand pressed hard against Jean's thigh. "And I'd like us _both_ to be sober." Jean looked down at Eren, pupils widened from the dimness of the bar, cheeks pink with the heady heat of the room and a small smile on his face that meant nothing innocent.

"Sure. Let's go," Jean tossed a wad of bills onto the table to help cover their tab as Eren tugged him out the door, calling goodbyes to their laughing friends over his shoulder. "They won't be angry?" Jean asked, half way to the bus stop.

"That's a bridge we can cross later. For now... " Eren slid his hand into Jean's back pocket, squeezing just enough to make Jean jump and laugh and silently agree to whatever it was that Eren was planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promise kept; two chapters, one week. Probably shouldn't expect it to ever happen again.  
> Though, next chapter, expect smut!  
> Thanks for reading!


	13. I Trust You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Despite the sear of their kiss, Eren kept their pace slow, hands ghosting over skin as he left marks on Jean’s shoulders and collarbones and sucked lightly on his lips; Jean was relaxing, floating in the warmth of Eren’s affection. His hands ran down Jean’s long back, pausing a moment for a handful of his ass before moving down his thighs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me awhile to write this, mostly because I suck at writing smut.  
> I have to be in the right mood and have the time.  
> But, here you go!

They had barely made it into Jean's bedroom before Eren was tearing off Jean's shirt and quickly following it with his own. Something felt different about all of this to Jean, the prospect of sleeping together while also _being_ together. He hadn't done that.... well, _ever_. It was a little odd and suddenly, he was nervous. Eren wasn't someone he could just leave anymore, forget if he messed up. He would have to live with it, talk to him about it, if Eren was merciless.

A-and, it didn't make him feel any better that Eren seemed so... comfortable with this. He stood just a little shorter than Jean, but Jean felt like the small one all of a sudden. He glanced down at his chest, so vastly different from Eren; pale and skinny and unmarked. Soft. 

“I-I--”

“Shut up,” Eren wrapped his hand around Jean’s hip and pulled him closer, kissing him lightly. “I just want you, okay?” Jean nodded dumbly, unable to find his words when his hands were on Eren.

Jean’s world tipped and spun, back landed softly on the bed. Eren was over him, undoing the buttons to his jeans and tugging them down. Jean laid naked under him. Eren’s eyes passed over him slowly, assessing every part of him, as if he had never seen Jean naked before. Jean felt like he  should have felt ashamed, embarrassed for being studied so closely. Instead, he felt embarrassed for the way Eren looked at him, like he’d never seen something so interesting before.

He bent down and pressed his mouth to Jeans skin lightly, “How opposed are you to me topping?” Jean let out his breath slowly, trying to put his thoughts in order.

“N-not really... I haven’t ever before.” 

“I figured,” Eren kissed him breathless, smiling slightly into it, “but I’m kinda in the mood to spoil you. Wanna make you feel good...” 

“Sounds good,”  

“I won’t hurt you, Jean.”

“I know. I trust you,” He smiled.

“And I trust you.” Jean pulled him down to kiss his again, wrapping his arms around his neck. Their lips moved over each others easily, slow and sensual and quickly turning more heated.

Despite the sear of their kiss, Eren kept their pace slow, hands ghosting over skin as he left marks on Jean’s shoulders and collarbones and sucked lightly on his lips; Jean was relaxing, floating in the warmth of Eren’s affection. His hands ran down Jean’s long back, pausing a moment for a handful of his ass before moving down his thighs. Their bodies pressed close, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, the thick weight of Eren’s cock lying next to Jean’s on his hips. Jean was turning into a mess of muddled sensations when Eren flipped him over onto his stomach. Jean tensed up as he felt Eren settled behind him.

“Eren--”

“Trust me, sweetheart,” Jean relaxed immediately. He’d never been very fond of pet names, but the term had sent a shiver down his spine.

Then he was pulling Jean apart and swiping his tongue across Jean’s hole wetly. He choked on a moan and shivered, grabbing the bedding beneath him. It felt unusual and dirty and--

And  _ good _ . Christ, did it feel good. Tingles ran up and down Jean’s spin, making his toes curl. Every part of him was very aware of Eren’s attentions and never wanted him to stop. 

Eren swirled his tongue around the puckered skin before poking it in slightly, just enough to hear Jean moan again. He was quick to learn that Jean wasn’t the quietest bottom he’d ever been with. When he sucked lightly, Jean was gasp. When he trailed his mouth down to the space behind Jean’s balls, Jean would whine. When he dug in his fingernails and pressed his tongue in as far as he could, Jean had to bite the pillow to keep himself from screaming.

There was a shift a moment before a single one of Eren’s thick, calloused fingers slid inside of Jean. His shoulders tensed, breath stopping in his throat, “Jean--?”

“Don’t stop,” His other, unoccupied hand, pressed against his lower back to hold Jean still as he continued his ministrations. Jean could hear Eren panting slightly, a soft moan peppered in between every few breaths. Eren could only imagine what he looked like, laying like this, but he wanted to  _ know _ . “E-Eren”

“Hm?”

“I-I wanna see you.” His laugh was low and sent a shiver across Jean’s shoulders. But he moved his hand and allowed Jean to roll over, settling between his thighs. His dark skin was flushed slightly, jade irises bright and pupils dark.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked. Jean nodded, too afraid of what his voice might sound like. Eren’s finger slid back inside of Jean and was soon joined by another, stretching and moving ever so slightly, but Jean could feel every one. He’d had something inside of him a few times before-- a finger or two after one partner suggested it, but it had never had it like this. Focused and intending to be the only thing that made him feel good.

“‘M ready...” Jean’s voice was hoarse with moaning, three fingers inside of him. He had fallen into a hazy pleasure, eyes slightly blurry and body noodly.

“I am a little bigger than three fingers, Jean.” He grabbed Eren’s hair and pulled him down.

“‘m ready.” He smiled.

“Always so stubborn,” Jean whinned when Eren pulled his fingers out-- much to Eren’s amusement-- and laid back to watch him roll on his condom and slather himself in lube. His cock-- having slightly wilted from the stretching he’d had to go through-- was called right back to attention at the sight. Eren rested one hand beside Jean’s head as he moved closer, pulling his thighs up onto his own. While Jean waited, Jean turned his head and nipped at the side of Eren’s wrist teasingly, in the same way he had gone after his neck and hips and shoulders. Eren laughed, “Just be patient,” The head of Eren’s cock pressed against Jean’s hole, “Are you ready?”

“Yes, come  _ on _ ,”

“Tell me if I should stop, okay? I don’t wanna hurt you.” Jean’s was blurry haze was shattered with both pain and pleasure as Eren pushed inside of him, feeling the stretch of him only half way inside. His back arched, hands finding purchase on Eren’s back and digging his fingernails in. Jean panted, colors dancing behind his eyelids as He adjusted.

“Jean...?” Eren nuzzled against his cheek lightly, kissing his jaw and trying to keep himself under control. It had been a very long time since he had felt such a tight, amazing heat around him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine....” Jean breathed. “Fine... keep going.” He ran his fingers through Eren’s hair, pushing it back and smiling as best as he could..

“Tell me if I hurt you, at any time, and I’ll stop.” Eren repeated. It didn’t hurt so much anymore anymore-- more of a dull burn that wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Jean nodded and Eren took a deep breath and sunk in until his hips were pressed against Jean’s. Jean groaned raggedly. He heard stories, read stories, about being completely filled, but never imagined that it could feel as good as it did.

“Still okay?” Eren asked, rubbing his thumb over Jean’s flushed cheek. Jean managed a smile and started to mutter exactly what he was thinking about, “I kinda want you to fuck me until I can’t walk straight tomorrow, and can’t speak to anyone because my voice will be so wrecked.” Eren let out a long breath.

“Who knew you’d turn out to be a little slut?” Eren bent down and kissed him hard, shifting inside of him just enough to pull a moan from Jean’s mouth. “But how could I say no to that?”

“Don’t go easy on me.”

“I won’t.” True to his word, Eren drew his hips back and began a teeth rattling pace. Every thrust made  slap echo through the room, punctuated by Jeans loud groans. Eren dug his teeth into his lips, trying not to lose so much control that he hurt Jean. As much as he loved seeing the hickies and marks he left across Jean’s shoulders, he didn’t know if he wanted to leave bruises on his hips. 

Jean, on the other hand, was quite enjoying being railed into oblivion. Part of him wondered why he never thought to do this more and another part wondered why he didn’t do this to other people more. It was nice to be the one laying back and taking it for once, though. He tried his move his hips back into Eren’s, but he was going boneless pretty fast, hands slipping where they held onto Eren’s shoulders.

He was winding up fast, losing track of where Eren ended and he began. A curl of arousal was tightening in his stomach, ready to snap, and Christ, was Jean totally ready to snap.

"E-Eren," He moaned, feeling tears leak from the corners of his eyes. "I-I'm gonna--"

"Yes, _fuck_ , please, come on Jean," Eren sunk his teeth into Eren's shoulder, snapping his hips forward harder, pace starting to stutter with his control. "Come for me, sweetheart, come on my cock, I wanna feel it, please--"

" _F-fuuck, Eren_...!" He broke.

Jean came hard, entire body shaking and throbbing as Eren grinded in deep and shuttered himself. It didn't take long for Eren to follow with his own orgasm. He collapsed on top of Jean, both of them breathing heavily and shallow.

" _Christ_ , Eren," Jean muttered. 

"I'm good, aren't I?" Jean snorted and shoved him off, wincing as Eren's softening cock slid out of him. "You'll be walking funny for a week."

"Just... come here and sleep," Jean wrapped himself around Eren, making it that much harder for him to pull off the condom and tie it off. He hoped that when he tossed it, it landed in the trash, but he was much too tired to care. 

"We should clean up--"

"Later."

"You're covered in cum and it's not gonna be fun to wipe it off tomorrow."

"Guess that'll suck for me."

 

Eren woke up first. His hips and thighs were sore, but the rest of him felt great. Great enough to roll out of bed and think about making a nice breakfast for the two of them. Something with fruit and pancakes, coffee strong, just like Jean liked it. Maybe they could go to the museum today, or the park.

_Or_ , Eren thought instead as he saw the marks covering Jean's neck, _perhaps something that doesn't require him to move much._

He dug through Jean's dresser drawer, looking for underwear to wear until he could do laundry. Jean didn't have much of an ass at all, so they would be a little tight, but nothing that Eren couldn't handle. 

He was wiggling his way into a bright yellow pair when something else in the drawer caught his eye. It was stiff and white, not clothing, but paper. Curious, Eren pulled it from the drawer. It was an envelope, crisp save for a bent corner. It was unopened. Flipping it over, Eren found Jean's name written in scratchy, smudged writing, worn. How long had Jean had this letter for the ink to start fading on the paper?

The envelope wasn't sealed, just tucked in. He knew he probably shouldn't have, but he pulled up the tab and removed the folded pieces of paper inside. Curiosity was getting the better of him.

_ Dear Jean, _

_ I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can only hope that after reading this, you might be able to forgive me. _

 

The guilt weighed a little heavier now. All he needed to know what who had written the letter and he would be satisfied. Eren skipped to the very bottom of the second page.

 

_ Love, Marco. Goodbye. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, I'm sorry myself.  
> Hope you enjoyed! Comments are always appreciated  
> I also hope you're ready for the next few chapters, because I sure am not.


	14. Walk it out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And so, he walked. It was nostalgic, in a sad way; he'd spent lots of time walking after Marco had passed. Walking required enough focus to distract him, to keep his mind blank. He could walk forever if he wanted to, walk across the earth if it was possible, and maybe when he returned to the city, everything would be better. He walked and avoided the people who would walk past him. He focused on the soft slaps of his bare feet on the sidewalk, freezing and beautifully numbing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry!  
> I'm horrible at updating and I promised stuff in august and now it's the end of October and I'm sorry. Everything's just been a little hectic lately.  
> This chapter is on the shorter side, mostly because I used it to take a break from writing an English paper and then had to get back to it, but for some reason, writing an analysis of Their Eyes were Watching God suddenly inspired me to do absolutely anything else.

Jean sat on a park bench in a jacket, and dirty sweatpants he'd gotten from the back of his car. His mind felt fuzzy, numb and cold; the rest of him felt similar. He was aware that it was cold out, that it was early in the morning-- the kind of morning only appreciated by runners and birds-- and that he was shivering. Sitting in the misty park, sun making the water droplets glow gold, he could almost forget how he'd gotten there.

 

_"What are you doing?!" Jean had asked after seeing the letter in Eren's hand. "_ What are you doing?!" _He'd snatched the letter from him and shoved Eren back into the dresser, feeling anger boil up into his throat. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"_

 

A women pushing a stroller passed, smiling politely as she did. Jean closed his eyes and leaned back heavily on the bench; the wood was cold too, cold enough to feel through his jacket. It was too thin, his sweatpants to threadbare, and the damp morning cold was starting to seep in. He needed to find some place to go that wouldn't mind a mopey twenty-something loitering without buying anything. 

 

_Out the door, he'd ran as fast as he could. For a moment, he'd considered driving somewhere, getting in his car and going, but he was at least sensible enough to know that it was dangerous for someone like him to be behind the wheel in this sort of state. So instead, he'd grabbed a jacket and started running. He knew that Eren had yelled his name as he'd left, but he hadn't run after him. He'd stayed back._

 

Jean swallowed the lump in his throat and stood up, digging into his pockets-- he could call Sasha maybe, or... someone else. There had to be someone else, right? He had Mikasa's number from all the times Eren had used to his phone to text her after his had died. She was quiet, and a good listener from what everyone said, but it seemed inappropriate to cry over her brother to her.

His phone wasn't in his pocket, "Fuck!" but folded slips of paper were. Marco's letter was tucked deep into his pocket, slightly crumpled now, and taunting Jean to open it up and read it's contents.

But Jean had resisted thus far and he could continue to do just that. And so, he walked. It was nostalgic, in a sad way; he'd spent lots of time walking after Marco had passed. Walking required enough focus to distract him, to keep his mind blank. He could walk forever if he wanted to, walk across the earth if it was possible, and maybe when he returned to the city, everything would be better. He walked and avoided the people who would walk past him. He focused on the soft slaps of his bare feet on the sidewalk, freezing and beautifully numbing. He breathed out a cloud of smoke and imagined all the times he'd been mesmerized by the very same sort of fog that would slip from between Marco's lips in the winter, that dumb hat he'd knit by himself pulled over his ears and making him look bald.

Eren's hair always stuck out from his hats, unable to be contained, and his ears were always cold, even when covered by a beanie, hair and Eren's hands pressed over them. He'd complain about it all the time, always whining that his ears were probably purple by now, and would smack Jean for not taking him seriously whenever he'd lean over and nibble at Eren's ear in an attempt to shut him up. The look on his face was always adorable when he did that, cheeks pink and a frown pulling at his mouth--

Jean stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, much to the annoyance to the rushing woman who smacked into him, and shook his head hard.

"Stop thinking about him," He breathed. _Not right now, not when he'd betrayed me._

_Had he betrayed me?_ Jean ran his hands down his face and started up with his steps again.  _I never told him not to read the letter... I never even told him where it was._

_At the very least,_ Even the voice in his head was starting to sound bitter, _he did invade my privacy._ But wasn't that something that could be forgiven? It wasn't something that Jean wanted to forgive. But he'd forgiven Eren for all the fights they'd gotten in, all the mean things that had been said, and could this really be worse than a broken nose? Was he just overreacting?

 

Jean managed to not make it home until it was nearly four in the afternoon. He'd swung by around ten in the morning to get shoes and the extra money he always kept in his car before leaving right away again, and now he returned cold, tired and emotionally exhausted. It felt like the climb up to his apartment would last forever, his knees shaking with every step. A bath was in order.

He turned down the hallway to see Eren sitting outside his door. Had he been less tired and slightly delirious, he might've turned around then; but he hadn't turned around the first time Eren had sat at the door either, when Jean was just as tired and much more delirious. That had been the beginning of something, and though he hadn't to admit it, this was starting to feel like an end...

He kept up his walking until he was an arms length away from him. Eren had noticed him by them, looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and a dangerously carved frown on his face.

"Jean--"

"I can't talk to you right now," Jean muttered softly. "Just... not now, Eren, please... I can't." 

"O-okay," He stood up. "I didn't mean to read--"

"I figured. But... I need to think. Can you just--" Jean paused and took a deep breath. "Can you just leave me alone? Just for a few days? Please." Eren nodded slowly, reaching forward and taking Jean's hand in his hesitantly. When Jean didn't pull away, he held it harder and nodded at him.

Eren's heat lingered, well after his steps faded down the buildings stairs. It was still there even as Jean grabbed a beer from the fridge, sat down on his couch, and pulled the letter from his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank's for reading!  
> Please, be patient with me as the story progresses, I'm a very stressed person, but I will absolutely try my best to get chapters out faster.  
> Thanks again! Comments are always appreciated.


	15. I Have Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Was this the Universe trying to smack him upside the head and get him to read the letter, or was it even more intensive to act like a spoiled brat for the rest of his life? Was Eren, or even the letter himself, really what he was trying to avoid of was the anger and sadness that Teenage Jean ™ had vowed to never experience again, for as long as he lived, no matter what?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapter, old me.  
> Armin's in this one! Go him!

After two weeks, Jean's supply of clean smelling hoodies had dwindled down to two (Including the one he was currently wearing). He'd spent these days only getting properly when he had to go to work, to which he was always late too, and spending all his free time pacing around the living room, where Marco's letter sat, still unread, on his coffee table. He'd tried a few times, opened the flap and even read his name in Marco's hand writing before he'd tossed it away again.

And now he leaned against his kitchen counter, wondering how much Irish Cream was too much Irish Cream to put in his coffee. He checked his phone, thumb hovering over Eren's contact, before he set it aside and let his head fall back again. Two weeks and he hadn't heard from Eren once. He didn't know if he should be happy about that or not, after all, wasn't he supposed to be angry at Eren right now? Maybe he'd never even hear from Eren again, because maybe Eren had finally realized that Jean was much more messed up than he thought.

 _Or_ , a voice chimed in, _he's respecting what you told him!_

That was the problem with living in an apartment by himself. He was dangerously alone with his thoughts, that tended to fall into one of two categories: Rational and horrible, unrelenting annoyance.

_I can't stay mad at him forever._

_Though Teenage Jean™ , master of holding long grudges, begs to differ._

_He didn't mean to invade my privacy, and he left as soon as I asked._

_If he really hadn't meant it, then he would've put it back the moment he saw it!_

_Maybe it was a sign to read the letter..._

This is where his thoughts always circled back to. Was this the Universe trying to smack him upside the head and get him to read the letter, or was it even more intensive to act like a spoiled brat for the rest of his life? Was Eren, or even the letter himself, really what he was trying to avoid of was the anger and sadness that Teenage Jean ™ had vowed to never experience again, for as long as he lived, no matter what? Could this be his own way or saying _Fuck You_ to Marco for leaving him behind--

He poured another bit of Irish Cream into his cup.

 

Around four in the afternoon, there was a light knock on his door. Half tipsy and confused, Jean pulled himself up from the couch and walked to the door. Perhaps, if he was lucky, it was some Pizza man who had gotten the address wrong. Something greasy and wholly unhealthy sounded really good to Jean at the moment and thinking about how cravings were supposed to be your body telling you that you needed something, so what the hell was in Pizza that your body needed(?!) would be a good distraction from that damned envelope.

It was not the pizza man.

It was Armin. He looked up from his phone as he opened the door, through his light hair. He was still as radiant and underlyingly terrifying as ever, with his much too innocent face. Jean, standing his stained sweatpants and one-less-clean-hoodie, felt like a garbage person standing in front of an angel.

"I need to speak with you," He walked past him and into the apartment, the smell of Jasmine following him closely. Jean shut his door and followed him dumbly, like a guest in his own house.

Armin perched on the edge of the couch and looked up at him, waiting, "Well?" he asked.

"Well what?" He replied.

"Well, Eren told me to come check on you, so I assume something must've happened. He's been a real downer lately. You guys get in a bad fight?" Jean sighed and flopped down next to him.

"Something like that." He muttered. 

"Wanna talk?" There was something calming about Armin, almost like Christa, that almost made Jean want to spill every thought and secret that he'd ever had.

"Not really." _Almost_.

Armin huffed, "Ugh. Okay, here's the thing, Eren already blabbed to me why you're so down," Jean opened his mouth and immediately shut it when Armin held up his hand. "Not on purpose. I sat on his back while he had to go to the bathroom, and wouldn't get up until he told me what was wrong. Honestly, he almost pissed his pants for you, so don't get mad at him for _that_ , at least." 

"I guess I can forgive that..." Armin leaned his elbows on his knees.

"But you can't for reading the letter? You know he didn't read any more than the first few lines right?"

"He shouldn't have read it at all..." Jean breathed.

"You don't sound very angry at him."

"I-I... I don't know if I am anymore." Jean flopped back. "I don't know if I have the energy to feel angry." Armin nodded understandingly, humming.

"Mh hm, yes, _maybe_ a good meal, a shower, and a feel good movie would bring back your anger properly." Armin rolled his eyes. "Don't you think that it's time for you to stop being angry, Jean? In general, not just at Eren."

"I've been angry my whole life, it's kinda my thing at this point," Jean deadpanned.

"Yeah, and you also always hated Eren and now look; I don't think that you don't have the energy to be angry, I just think you don't want to be anymore." Armin patted Jean's knee lightly, smiling. "Come on. You have other emotions other than angry. Why don't you try them out for a change?" 

"It's not that simple, _Armin!_ "

"Isn't it?"

"How could you even say that--?!" He stopped and groaned, running his hands down his face. "I can't do this...!" 

"I know you can't. That's your problem: you keep on trying to push people away, or ignore things, or stay angry, when you know you can't do that anymore." Armin scooted closer to him and pulled Jean to lean against his much smaller, much softer body. "You need to grow up. Your body has, but emotionally, you still need some work. Luckily, you have time and people willing to help you. I suggest taking advantage of this." Jean sunk into Armin's side, closing his eyes. He did have friends now, or at least acquaintances and Armin. He'd have Eren, if he ever managed to explain himself to him. He had time. He had time. He had to keep repeating it to himself in his head. He had time.

 _I have time_.

 

Armin stayed and made a better dinner than Jean had had in the last two weeks. How Armin managed to make sesame chicken and rice with what Jean had, he had no idea, but he was grateful for it. He was even more grateful when he got to his third helping of it. Armin announced that it was time for him leave once they finished cleaning up, saying that he had work in the morning, "But you can always call me if you need me. I put my number in your phone earlier."

"Oh. Thanks." Jean rubbed the back of his head, trying to think of how to say thank you in a more meaningful way, for Armin to understand that he'd pulled Jean back from a cliff that Jean hadn't even known he was standing on. "U-uh, um, Armin...? I mean, thanks for uh, everything..." Not as eloquent as someone else might have said it, but Armin smiled like he got it.

"No problem, Jean. What am I, or anyone else on earth, here for, if not to help?" He hugged him tightly and stepped back. "I'll tell Eren that it's okay to pay a visit soon, alright? You guys have some talking to do."

"Y-yeah. Okay, yeah, good idea." 

"I'm fulla those. See ya later, Jean." And like that, he was gone, leaving only the mood he'd created behind.

No wonder Eren had spent so much time around that guy all his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to everyone who thought Jean was going to read the letter. I think he needs a bit more growth emotionally before that happens.  
> I'm also sorry that Google actually had to give me results for "TM Symbol". 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [over here](http://accidentalcosmonaut.tumblr.com/) or [Here](http://libraryof-dreams.tumblr.com/) Where I might start posting drabbles and stuff if it's wanted


	16. One, Two, Three, Four, Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But loneliness was currently driving him, and that's why he was sitting in his car outside of Jean's apartment, rubbing his hands on his thighs to dry up the sweat. Eren couldn't remember the last time he'd been so nervous. He felt his bones shaking. Was that normal?! To feel your bones shaking?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! It's been awhile... A long while...  
> I'm sorry.  
> Anyways! Here we are, another chapter done. Hopefully I'll be writing more, as I've been getting back into the swing of it recently. This chapter is a little longer than usual and I really wanna keep that up!  
> A quick warning, right at the beginning of this, Eren has a panic attack, loosely based of the ones that I tend to have. It's a bit descriptive, so if that bothers you, stop at "his head was spinning" and you can pick up again at "sitting on Jean's couch,"  
> Hope you like!!

Eren was... Okay, he didn't want to say lonely, but that was definitely how he was feeling. He loved spending time with Armin and Mikasa, loved seeing his friends and hanging out and they did all that too, but he couldn't help missing Jean a bit too. Armin, who had started getting annoyed with his constant worrying and bad mood, made sure to remind him at every chance he got that Jean was alright with him coming over, but... 

He was nervous. He'd fucked up. He knew that, Jean knew it.

But loneliness was currently driving him, and that's why he was sitting in his car outside of Jean's apartment, rubbing his hands on his thighs to dry up the sweat. Eren couldn't remember the last time he'd been so nervous. He felt his _bones_ shaking. Was that normal?! To feel your _bones shaking?_   He gasped, bending over his legs and wrapping his arms around himself. His head was spinning; he felt sick, like his lungs were trying to escape his body through his throat. Was his vision blurry because he was hyperventilating or because tears were clouding his eyes? He couldn't think straight, he couldn't breath, he needed to relax, he _knew_ he needed to relax, but he _couldn't_.

His hands shook as he picked up his phone, fumbled with the screen, trying to find Armin's name, his contact, he needed someone to talk him down from this, before he breathed himself into passing out. It wouldn't be the first time.

Armin didn't answer. The call went straight to his voicemail, the patronizing voice informing him that the phone was currently shut off. For a moment, Eren considered throwing the phone out the window, but took to hitting his hand hard against the steering wheel instead. He needed to focus. He needed to call someone, anyone, he needed someone to tell him that he was being irrational, that he was fine, his mind wouldn't listen to himself.

"Hello?" Eren choked on a sob as he finally heard a regular, human voice on the other side of the phone. "Eren? What's wrong?"

" _Jean_ , I-I can't-- _something's wrong!_ " 

"What's wrong, Eren, talk to me." 

"I-I'm outside your a-a-ap-apartm-- I'm outside your place," He managed to get out. Eren grabbed his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his heart start speeding up again. The small relief of hearing Jean was overtaken again by what Jean must think of him. God, he was sitting outside his apartment like a creeper, crying and not breathing correctly, like a child. Jesus, Jean was gonna think he was pathetic, that he was loser, he was never going to want to see him again--

"Eren, Eren, look up at me, please." He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and missed it as it pulled away. He looked up at Jean, bent down on the outside of his car. The door was open, but Eren never remembered hearing it open up. "Eren, can I touch you?" through his haze, Eren nodded, chewing hard on the corner of his lips as he started at Jean, too blurry to see clearly. "When I squeeze your hand, I need you to breath in, alright? And when I let go, breath out," Jean's hand was warm, really warm, and it wrapped around Eren's smaller one perfectly. When he squeezed, Eren tried to his best to breath in with it. His body shook though, made it hard, and with his head spinning so much and his fingers going numb... "Come on, Eren. Focus on me, alright. Deep breaths." Jean squeezed his hand. "One... two... three... four... five..." And then he let go. "One... two... three... four... five..." 

 

Sitting on Jean's couch, Eren could only vaguely remember being led out of his car and up the stairs, supported by Jean who spoke quietly to him the whole time. He remembered Jean telling him to sit and close his eyes, he would make him tea or something, anything he wanted. Tea had sounded nice though.

"Are you okay now?" He took the mug that was offered to him, as Jean sat down beside him on the couch. 

"I... I think so," Eren breathed. The steam of the coffee wafted up into his face, warming him. "I... I haven't had anything that bad in a long time." Jean touched his leg.

"You don't have to tell me why you're here yet, if you don't want to. Just take a minute." If anything, Eren was grateful that Jean understood. He breathed in the steam from his tea, taking small sips, wondering how to tell him... _everything_ , that he wanted to say. How to say sorry and that he missed being around him, and that he wanted to go back to when they were good with each other, when they wanted each other and everything was easier. Hadn't they already gone through enough already, couldn't it just _stay_ easy now?

"I'm sorry for this," Eren muttered.

"Don't be. It's fine," Eren sighed and shook his head.

"But it's not... It wasn't supposed to go like this."

"What do you mean?"

"I was supposed to sweep in here, be able to actually _speak_ , and we were supposed to make it and it was gonna go back to being good." Jean was staring at him. There was nothing in his eyes that made Eren feel worse, but not better either. He was just looking at him, gold eyes half lidded and smudged beneath. "I'm sorry... for not being better at this."

"You don't have to apologize, Eren." Jean said softly. "If you did, then I'd have to apologize for my entire life. Let's just talk." 

"Okay."

"Okay." Eren took a deep breath in and ran his hand down his face.

"I really didn't mean to read the letter."

"I know."

"And I didn't seem much. I wasn't my place to even open it at all. It was stupid of me." Jean nodded.

"Yeah, it was pretty dumb," Jean reached over, wrapped his hand over Eren's wrist, "but I'm not angry anymore. Well, I'm kinda annoyed still, but I'm used to that when I'm around you," That surprised a laugh out of Eren, who pulled his hand off the mug and linked his fingers with Jean's. "That letter... I want to be the one to read it. No one else. It was written for me."

"I know, you're absolutely right, I won't even touch it again." Eren said quickly. "I'm sorry." 

"I'm sorry for freaking out so badly. Can we agree to forgive each other this time around?"

"Y-yeah, of course!" Eren smiled. "You sound like Armin." Jean laughed softly.

"Well, I think he might've rubbed off on me. He's a good guy to have around," Eren wiggled his fingers were they rested between Jean's, almost marveling at difference in color of their skin. It was a nice look though, a good sort of different.

"Yeah. He certainly helps." Eren leaned forward and rested his forehead on Jean's shoulder. Panicking had worn him out completely and sapped his energy. His mind was tired, and his body was following suit. "I suppose you haven't read the letter then?" Jean took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. His hand tightened on Eren's, and pulled both into his lap to fiddle with Eren's fingers, tracing the curve of his fingernails and the bumps of his knuckles.

"No. I haven't read it," He admitted. "I'm scared to. I have no idea what it could possibly say. I don't know what I _want_ it to say. I'm just afraid to see what Marco was thinking before all this." He dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest and sighing softly. "Marco loved me, at some point. I think I'm afraid, that in the end, he didn't anymore."

"You won't know until you read it."

"Give me a bit, okay? I can't yet," Eren looked up and kissed Jean's cheek lightly.

"Read it when you want. Don't let anyone, especially me, tell you when you have to." With his other hand, Jean set his hand against the side of Eren's neck, tracing the curve of his jaw with his thumb. He smiled slightly.

"You look tired."

"So do you."

"I've been thinking a lot."

"Dangerous pass time."

"Know from experience?"

"You just saw me." They both laughed, Eren leaning close enough to press their foreheads together. "Truthfully, though? I'm exhausted." 

"You can stay here... if you want. We can nap. And talk more. I think we need to talk a little more." He didn't know if he was allowed to kiss Jean yet, but this seemed like a good time to kiss him. He really wanted to. They were so close after all, and he'd only have to lean forward a bit more and press his mouth to his and be happy that he could kiss him again, "Can I kiss you Eren--"

"Of fucking course," Jean laughed and pulled him close, and kissed him softly. Maybe it wasn't kissing. They were more resting against each other, content to be touching again, enjoying the feel of the others breath against their skin.

"Let's go to bed." Jean muttered against his lips. He reluctantly pulled away and stood up, taking Eren with him and walking them both back to their room. They pulled of their pants and crawled into Jean's bed, wrapping themselves around the other. Eren wound his legs around Jean's lanky ones, giggling softly as Jean kissed the top of his ear and slid his hands under his shirt to rest on his lower back. Jean's hands felt colder now that Eren wasn't panicking, but he let him keep touching his skin. He promised himself that he wouldn't take it for granted, but he would enjoy it completely right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	17. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He paid less attention to his food and more to the window, chewing mindlessly as he watched raindrops chasing raindrops down the glass. Eren finished with his plate and set it aside, wrapping his arm around Jean's waist and watching the window with him. It was beautifully, wonderfully, extremely peaceful. This was a gift from some higher power, Eren reasoned. Whoever or whatever was watching had taken pity on their situation and was giving them a storm in apology or reward or whatever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all deserve a nice, domestic chapter with no real problems other than having to get out of bed. I think we've earned it. This is it; the reward.  
> Also, it suddenly started snowing again out of nowhere in my little town, and I hate it and need some cute fluff to make myself feel better because I'm hella salty about SNOW in MARCH.

They spent the next day in.

Eren had woken up first, but refused to leave the bed without Jean. He curled against his side, head resting on his bony chest, and let himself float on the edges of sleep. It was a rainy morning, the kind that cast a pale, grey light on everything, and was perfect for settling and doing nothing constructive all day. The way Eren figured it, with this sort of weather, it was downright unhealthy for him to get out of bed anytime soon.

A far away rumble of thunder woke up Jean, who yawned and rolled onto his side, wrapping his noodley arms around Eren and pressing his face against his neck. Eren cried out and laughed, trying to arch away, "You're cheeks are scratchy," He whispered.

"Sorry." But he didn't move. Eren settled down, keeping his neck far enough away to avoid getting burned and hugged Jean back. Cold air from outside kept the room cool, but they were warm and comfortable inside their blankets. Eren watched shadows of the rain outside slip down the walls of Jean's room, running his fingers down Jean's knobby back in a similar fashion. He wanted to keep touching Jean, to touch him forever; not in a sexual way so much, but just because he could. Jean was boney and skinny, but his skin was soft and cluttered with marks from old stories that Eren wanted to know while he traced their bumpy ridges. Jean had a map for a body; the hills of his spine, the planes of his chest, and mountains of his hipbones. Eren could almost see the ocean that could fill his stomach, tributaries and rivers flowing between the bones of his rib cage. He walked two fingers up Jean's arm, watching them slip on the slope of his shoulder and come to rest in Jean's hair. God, he couldn't get enough of touching him. He loved it.

He was drowning in the feel of his skin, when he felt something rumbling against him; thunder, but this time from inside of Jean's stomach, "Hungry?" Eren asked, laughing.

"Yeah. 'm craving bacon," Eren kissed his temple.

"Do you _have_ bacon?"

"Dunno... maybe."

"Let's go look and we can make breakfast." Jean groaned quietly. "Yeah, yeah, sleepy, I'll bring it to you."

"Really?" Jean peeked out from Eren's chest, eyelids fluttering.

"Yeah, sure. I don't mind," Jean snuggled in a bit.

"Don't wanna let go..." Eren snorted and tried to untangle himself from the octopus of Jean's arms and legs. He didn't seem keen on letting him go, but eventually gave up and let Eren slip out of bed. He put on Jean's clothes: briefs that were a bit too tight and little too short, and a t-shirt _much_ too tight and too long. He was covered though, so he didn't care. Jean seemed to appreciate it too, from the way he was looking him up and down, with a small sleepy smile on his face. Eren grinned back, _so_ tempted to go and crawl back into bed with him and cuddle him for the rest of the day but his stomach was starting to clench too and they both needed food.

Eren looked in Jean's fridge and was rewarded with good news; Jean had bacon. He pulled the package out, along with milk and eggs. He wasn't the best cook in the world, but he could at least making a decent, simple breakfast. He hummed as he cooked, loving the domestic feel of the morning. Waking up next to Jean, making breakfast for them, cuddling and joking around. He liked that they were comfortable. Spending all day in bed, maybe watching something on Jean's laptop, maybe messing around; Eren would love anything at this point, even if Jean kicked him out once they were done with breakfast. He didn't want to think about that though. He had to pay attention to the bacon, make it extra crispy.

 

Jean was a simple being. 

Well, maybe not _simple_ , per se, but he was easily pleased for the most part. Eren had already scored some major brownie points for being so good at cuddling all night. Now he was handing him a plate of bacon and eggs and cut up kiwi's, that Jean hadn't even known he'd had, and setting a glass of orange juice on the bedside table, "I kinda thought you were joking about the whole breakfast in bed thing." he was so, _so_ happy that he hadn't been joking. Eren was really racking up those points now. Jean might just have to marry him by the end of the day.

"Of course not," Eren bounced on the bed next to him with his own plate. "Do you think I'd lie to you?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. Eren watched him a moment, eyebrows drawing closer together. "No, I don't mean you're a liar. I was just surprised is all," He reached over and threaded his fingers through Eren's messy hair. "I got lunch."

"Order in for dinner?"

"Which means you'll stay all day?"

"O-only... if you want me too..." Eren moved his eggs around the plate, chewing on his lip instead. He didn't know what part of him was so nervous about Jean, about being with him, but he was convincing himself that he wasn't wanted here. Jean hadn't even wanted him to leave bed, but he was still so terrified that they would be getting along, being happy one minute and the next, Jean would kick him out. He was afraid that Jean would come to his senses and realize that Eren wasn't worth it, that he was too much trouble. Eren really, really didn't want to cause trouble for someone else in his life. He'd already caused so much for everyone.  Jean had put up with him so far and forgiven him and let him stay, but who knew when Eren would do something that pushed him too far? He'd reached Mikasa's limit once already, and he had figured her patience was endless; he knew that Jean wasn't exactly one for patience and he was utterly terrified of fucking up again--

"Hey," Jean flicked his shoulder. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it. This is a good morning, no thinking bad thoughts." Eren smiled, rubbing his shoulder.

"Sorry."

"S'fine... I just don't like seeing you make that face," He moved closer to Eren, pressing against his side as he ate. They both settled against each other and ate in relative silence, enjoying the sound of the storm outside. It rumbled and shook the windows, occasionally flashing bright enough to fill the room, and by the look on Jean's face, you would've figured that he'd just been given a present. He paid less attention to his food and more to the window, chewing mindlessly as he watched raindrops chasing raindrops down the glass. Eren finished with his plate and set it aside, wrapping his arm around Jean's waist and watching the window with him. It was beautifully, wonderfully, extremely peaceful. This was a gift from some higher power, Eren reasoned. Whoever or whatever was watching had taken pity on their situation and was giving them a storm in apology or reward or whatever.

All that mattered was that it was raining, and Jean was leaning back against Eren.

 

Eren was an old man, Jean insisted after he had fallen asleep for the third time while watching some sitcom on Netflix, "It's funny, but it's not interesting enough to keep me awake," Eren reasoned. "And I'm younger than you!" Jean waved his hand and made a noise that sounded like a mix between "Bah!" and "Ugh!" and the resulting sound reminded Eren from his grandfather. _I'm really not the old man between the two of us,_ he thought. _I'm not the one who's been complaining about my knees hurting all morning_. it wasn't worth the pointless argument that would come from that observation, so Eren just let him call him a 70 year old man in a twenty-something year old body. 

"Let's watch Hunchback of Notre Dame," Eren pointed at the screen. "Best Disney movie ever," Jean's face turned slightly sad, but he smiled, moving the mouse over the movie. "What is it?"

"Nah, it's just... Marco and I used to watch this a lot. He loved it. Said he felt like Quasimodo sometimes." 

"Really? He was one of the most popular guys in the school," Jean shrugged.

"I dunno. Everyone knew him, he had a reputation that he was expected to uphold. No one understood that he wasn't the same kid he was in elementary school when they met him," He pressed his lips together, but instead of looking like crying, he looked like he was trying not to laugh. "The first time we ever tried smoking, _he_ was the one who suggested it and got a cigarette." That surprised Eren more than anything. Marco had been good-two-shoes in high school, the kid who wore sweater vest because he liked them and hung out with Jean because he was trying to turn him to the side of righteousness. "Wanna know how he got it?"

"How?!"

"Sweet talked this guy outside a gas station into giving him one. It was amazing, Eren. He probably could've talked the guy into giving his wallet, his car and the shirt off his back if he'd wanted it," Jean shook his head. "And then we tried it in the park. It was horrible. I hated it. Marco was better at it than I was, but he decided he wasn't a fan of the smell." Jean looked down at his lap. "I never told my parents. Marco did as soon as he got home. I think he wanted to get in trouble. I think he wanted to show his parents that he wasn't a good kid, despite what everyone thought. He didn't want to be the good kid, he _hated_   it, but couldn't help himself. I sometimes think he only hung out with me because he thought people would start to think bad of him." Eren kissed Jean's cheek softly, hugging him from the side.

"That's not true. Anyone could've seen that you were his best friend in the whole world." Jean sighed. "I'm glad you're talking about him with me."

"It'll get annoying eventually." He muttered.

"No, it won't. I think it's really good that you're talking. You should do it more, I'll always listen." 

"Really? A-are you sure you're fine with me talking about the guy I'm in l-- I _was_ in love with?" Eren took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face.

"I'll admit that I'm... _maybe_ a little jealous. But only because he knew you for your entire life and I just recently figured out that you weren't nearly as big as an asshole as I thought that you were. But that doesn't mean I mind hearing about him. I guess I didn't really know either of you as well as I thought I did." Jean nodded slowly.

"Stop me if I'm getting annoying?"

"Nope." He laughed. "Come on, talk," Eren shut the laptop and set it aside, laying down and pulling Jean down with him, the curled up beneath their blankets, close enough that Jean could whisper and pause and think as much as he wanted. He talked quietly about everything, going from one story to another, bouncing around from kindergarten to sophomore year, back and forth. He liked watching Jean talk, like the way he finally seemed to be baring a part of his soul that he'd kept hidden for years. His eyes dampened, some tears slipped out, but he was smiling. _Actually_ smiling. Eren rubbed his back and let him talk, asking questions and getting long-winded answers that made him laugh. Marco and Jean had gotten into a lot more trouble than Eren had expected, and most of it was Marco's doing, "S-so, he managed to drink the entire six pack while I wasn't paying attention, and threw up behind the tree in his backyard. He was so pathetic, throwing up and laughing and crying and throwing up _more_ , I thought he was going to die. It was hilarious. And the next morning-- Sunday, by the way-- he comes over in his dumb little sweater vest and these dumb, black oxfords that he got from his Grandpa, all ready for church, looking bright as day and says he wants to do it again next weekend," He laughed softly. "He was _such_ an idiot, Eren, and no one knew! No one listened to _me_ when I said it, of course, but seriously, he was more reckless and dumb that I was."

"From what you're saying, I believe it. He sounds like a demon,"

"He was awful," Jean whispered. He swallowed hard and cuddled closer to Eren, pushing his face into his chest. "He was wonderful..." Eren looked over Jean's head, looking out the window. He wasn't exactly sure what to say. What did you say to your boyfriend when he was crying over the guy he used to be in love with? _I guess,_ Eren figured, _you just don't be a jerk about it_.

"I didn't really know Marco all that well," Eren started, and then paused. "I didn't know Marco at all. I don't think a lot of people did. But I'm happy that you knew him. I'm sure he was too," Jean nodded into Eren's chest.

"Thank you... for letting me talk about him."

"No problem. I like hearing the stories. I... I hope you don't mind me saying this, but... I think I kinda understand why you loved him so much," Jean laughed softly.

"I just wish he'd understood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone else totally obsessed with the new songs the Gorillaz put out?! I think I listened to Saturnz Barz the entire time I wrote this
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	18. Dear, Jean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco's letter.  
> (TW: allusions to suicide. I tried to keep it vague and not mention it much, but this is definitely a skipable thing if you don't think you can handle it. Take care of yourself, in more ways than avoiding reading things that might hurt you.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.  
> This may seem very abrupt, but that's because it is and I feel like I owe a bit of an explanation. Part of me wants to continue this, develop the story and the people in it more, but I know it will just amount to a never ending fic that stresses me out to no end. I would rather end it somewhere I'm comfortable ending it, with Jean and Eren in a place i'm comfortable leaving them in, than to continue and never finish it at all, with huge time gaps between chapters like there has been, etc, etc, etc...  
> Anyways. Trying to remember to write this has sort of held me back from writing as a whole. I've done a few fics since starting this, but haven't been able to focus on longer ones without this one creeping up behind and reminding me that I am not a good multitasker. On the bright side, it has taught me a lot about writing multi-chapter fics, and I plan to use all I've learned in writing better, more thought out and interesting fics that don't seem so randomly strung together (Which this one feels like to me)  
> All in all: I hope none of you are too mad at me for this. I hope that you might check out something else I've written if it interest you, and maybe look out for when I manage to be one of those amazing writers who have update schedules and consistent chapter lengths. There will be one more chapter after this up hopefully sometime in the next couple of days, a sort of epilogue to wrap things up that will have as little angst as possible to make up for it all ending  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO'S READ UP TO THIS POINT, WHO COMMENTED OR KUDO'D OR ANYTHING, IT REALLY DOES MEAN THE WORLD TO ME

_Dear Jean,_

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can only hope that after reading this, you might be able to forgive me._

_By the time you get this, I’ll probably already be gone. You’re probably angry, and sad and probably want to punch a wall, or me. And you have every right to be. But you have to understand, Jean, I can’t let other people’s emotions stop me anymore. I’m sick of it. I’m over it. I can’t do it anymore._

_Please, don’t blame yourself. I know you will, you think everything's your fault and this isn’t about what happened last week. This is about me, for once, it’s about me and me alone. I don’t want this letter to be about me though. I want it to be about you. So here I go._

_When I met you, I remembering thinking that I wanted to see what you looked like when you smile. Even then, you were such an angry kid! I made it my goal to be your friend. I’m sorry if I annoyed you, but I’m not sorry for becoming your friend. Being your friend was one of the few things that made me legitimately happy, and I want to thank you for that. I loved hanging out with you, and doing stupid things together, and even loved the times I’d clean you up after a fight. Jean, you are not only my best friend, but one of the best things that ever happened me. I’m sorry I couldn’t love you in the way you loved me, but I do love you, Jean. Even after I’m gone, I’ll love you and I hope you can continue to love me. But I also hope you find someone else to love too. I hope you find someone who’s deserving of your good sides, who’s willing to look past bad rumors and scars. I want you to find happiness on your own, and then find happiness with someone else. Whatever one comes first, I just want both to happen._

_You probably expect some explanation for what I’ve done. You probably want answers, just like my family and the world will want answers. But I don’t have any. I’m sorry. I know you want them, but I can’t give any. I think part of me is hoping that by the time I’m done writing these letters, I’ll have changed my mind, but I haven’t. Not yet. Maybe after the last. I guess I’ve spent too long thinking about this to back out now. God, Jean, I hope you can forgive me for this. I hope, that if there is a heaven, and we both get there, that you won’t punch me on arrival. At least, not hard. I hope that I have to wait a long, long time to see you again._

_Be happy. Please, be happy without me. Be happy FOR me. Don’t let me ruin your life like I ruined my own._

_Love, Marco. Goodbye._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading. I hope you've liked it and sorry again.


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The wedding had so far gone off without a hit. Sasha has speed-walked down the aisle, too excited to float down like most brides. Connie had beamed, had caught her around her waist and kissed her before the actual ceremony had begun. Jean had smiled big the whole time, feeling lighter than he had in awhile. Maybe he was a sap, but he found that he quite liked weddings."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, here we are. The ending. And how bittersweet it is.  
> I hope you enjoy, and as always, thank you for reading!!

Jean cackled loudly as Connie shoved a large slice of cake into Sasha’s face.  Sasha gasped and tackled him, kissing him soundly and covering his face in frosting, while the rest of the crowd gathered laughed. Honesty, no one was very surprised. They knew there would be at least one food fight; it wouldn’t be a party with Sasha if there wasn’t. 

“At least we know the cake taste good,” Eren tipped his head back and whispered. Jean took a moment to kiss his forehead, tightening his arms around his waist. “Either that, or Connie is eating Sasha’s face.”

“Anything is possible during this Blouse-Springer wedding,” Jean replied. Eren snorted and turned around in Jean’s arms, as Sasha and Connie sat back down at the main table, laughing together and whipping off each other’s faces. 

“Anything?” Jean rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking,  _ stop _ ,” Eren laughed and pushed his face into Eren’s suit jacket. The wedding had so far gone off without a hit. Sasha has speed-walked down the aisle, too excited to float down like most brides. Connie had beamed, had caught her around her waist and kissed her before the actual ceremony had begun. Jean had smiled big the whole time, feeling lighter than he had in awhile. Maybe he was a sap, but he found that he quite liked weddings. This one was especially jovial, no one seemed to be able to keep a straight face. He could’ve sworn he’d even caught Doctor Ackerman smiling during the ceremony. 

Jean and Eren sat back down at the table they’d chosen, close to the edge of the ballroom the reception was in. They sat with their friend, they laughed and ate and drank enough that Jean actually said yes when Eren asked to dance. They stood on the dance floor with four other couples, holding onto each other and swaying to music from the 80s (AKA, Connie’s favorite). Eren sang along to most of them, and laughed when Jean attempted imitate Axl Rose's signature style during November Rain. Everything felt pretty damn wonderful.

They stayed long enough to see the happy couple off to the hotel they’d stay at before their honeymoon trip to Hawaii, before taking their leave. The drive back to Jean’s apartment was quiet, peacefully so, with only the whisper of tires on the road an a gentle muttering from the radio as noise. Eren held Jean’s hand on the center console and stared out the window: it was late, the streets mostly empty, and streetlights flying by in white and orange streaks. Eren was content. He wanted the car ride to last forever.

Forever only lasted ten more minutes. It took him a moment to climb out of the car and follow Jean up the stairs to his apartment. As wonderfully peaceful the car ride home had been, being back at the apartment was nice too. Jean went into the kitchen for some unknown reason and Eren made his way to the couch, to flop over and toe off his shoes, feet finally free of them. He glanced at the letter on the table, still sitting there even after three weeks of it being opened finally. It had taken Eren a lot of coaxing and questioning and leaving Jean alone to think for a few hours before he had finally decided that he was ready to read it. He remembered holding Jean while he cried, while he read the letter again and curled up and sobbed more. He remembered dealing with a shut-down Jean for a couple of days, one who meandered around the apartment, lost in his thoughts. He’d finally come back to Eren after four days, with apologies for being so distant and a declaration that he was okay. It had taken him a bit to get there but... he was okay. He still was. He still went though bouts of quietness occasionally, and was probably thinking more than he should, but he was  _ healing _ . Eren was so happy that he was healing.

He hadn’t read the letter himself. Jean never brought it up, and Eren didn’t want to. That letter was for Jean’s eyes only. It was the last private thing between him and Marco, and Eren would never dare cross into that territory where he did not belong. Jean had said before that he didn’t believe you could love two different people in the same way; Eren knew he was loved in a way different from Marco, so it was hard for him to be jealous of having that small, final secret between Marco and Jean.

“He would be happy we were together. He said so.”

“About me specifically?”

“No. Just about me finding someone who made me happy.” That was he most Eren knew about what the letter contained and it was enough. He didn’t know if Marco had ever liked him, or what he thought about him at all, but he hoped that he would approve of him. He figured that as long as he made Jean happy, Marco was probably okay with it, and so far, it seemed Eren was making him happy; he’d heard it straight from the horse's mouth.

“I like weddings,” Eren looked up as Jean sat down next to him, handing him a glass of water and drinking his own. “Or maybe I just like Sasha’s. But I actually had fun,” 

“Me too,” Eren moved over and leaned against his boyfriends shoulder. “They certainly know how to throw a party.”

“I’d trust Sasha to plan my wedding,” They both smiled. Eren didn’t know what Jean was smiling about but he wanted to think that maybe he was thinking about his own marriage someday. “Do you wanna go to bed? Movie?”

“Bed. I’m exhausted.”

“It’s been a long day,” Jean agreed. Jean stood first and pulled up Eren, looping his arm around his waist and leading him back to the bedroom. The room that used to smell like Jean now had hints of Eren mixed in, just like his clothes that laid on the floor. Eren had his own side of the bed, his own toothbrush in the bathroom, his own mug for coffee in the morning. He had interwoven himself within Jean’s life and he hadn’t even noticed until he realized how strangely domestic all this felt. There was no asking if Eren was staying the night, or if he would still be there in the morning, and there was no pressure to do anything but sleep. When Jean looped his arms around his waist and pressed his face into his hair, Eren found himself thinking that he didn’t want this to end. The car ride was one thing-- he would have other peaceful car rides-- but this was different. This was much more special.

“Jean--”

“Eren--” They both paused and laughed softly.

“You first,” Eren muttered.

“What do you think of my apartment?” Eren had no idea where this was coming from.

“I think it’s fine.” It wasn’t the Cinderella Suite at Disney, but it was comfortable and liveable, even if the pipes rattled a bit and the doorknob to the closet in the hall was always a bit finicky.

“I think I want to move,” Eren shifted, looking over his shoulder at Jean, who’s eyes were close. In the darkness, Eren could only make out his shape, but he could’ve sworn the tips of Jean’s ears were red. 

“Why?” Eren asked. This place was a little far from Jean’s job, but it wasn’t that bad and Jean seemed to like his apartment just fine.

“S’not really big enough for two people,”

“Two people--?” Eren paused. “Wait--”

“You don’t have to say yes. But the offer stands.” Jean said quickly, almost breathlessly. Eren sat up and rolled over, pinning Jean onto his back by his shoulders. He leaned down and sealed his lips soundly, kissing him deep.

“Why in hells name would I say no?” Eren muttered, pulling away just far enough to be able to speak; he was close enough to see Jean smile though.

“I dunno. Maybe you like living with Mikasa and Armin.”

“I don’t think I’ve lived with them for a couple of weeks now,” Jean laughed. “My only request is that we find a place with a decent kitchen. Yours is starting to make me sad.” Jean reached up and set his hand on Eren’s cheek, stroking along his skin with his thumb.

“As long as you promise to cook for me,”

“Well I didn’t want the kitchen just to look at,”

“Shut up,” Eren laughed and rolled back onto the bed, smiling. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to ask if you maybe wanted to move in together at some point,” Jean snickered. “I know. We’re both sappy bastards. Can we just go to sleep now?” Humming softly, Jean wrestled Eren back into his arms, kissing his neck and cheeks and the end of his nose. “I said sleep!” Eren cried, laughing. 

“Yes, we can sleep. And tomorrow, we start looking for a new place.”

“With a good kitchen.”

“With a good kitchen.”

“Okay. Good night Jean... love you.” Eren gasped softly as the arms around his waist tightened, pulling him somehow closer.

“Good night. Love you too.”


End file.
